Echoes of the Past
by browneyedgirl29
Summary: Statistical Impossibilities #2: In the wake of her adventure with the Romulans, Karina receives a strange assignment from Captain Pike that could make or break her spot on the Enterprise. Meanwhile, Jim dredges up a secret from Karina's past that changes everything and Bones and Camille try to figure out just WHAT is going on between them. Sequel to Breathe. Bones/OC.
1. Chapter 1

The first time she'd set foot in Iowa, it'd been a year ago. The summer heat hadn't been quite as intense, it had just been about to give way to the chill of fall. However, the landscape wasn't much different. Just as unremarkable as before. Flat, vast, the horizon seeming to never end as far as the eye could see, but with nothing to break that monotonous scene.

Karina still found it better than anything she'd seen before Starfleet.

She'd spent the majority of hiatus in New York with Camille and her family, but when Jim had invited them out to Riverside for a week, she'd jumped at the chance. It'd only been two weeks, but she missed the older cadet who'd become like her big brother more than she'd thought she would.

Cam had come along, too, of course, and Bones had been there the entire time, but the pair of them weren't involved in this particular excursion. Karina wrapped her arms around Jim tighter and tighter as the motorcycle he'd rented took off, the wind whipping her long brown hair that stuck out under the helmet, and she wished briefly she'd thought to pull it back.

The pair of helmets had a radio system, and Jim asked her, "How you doing back there, kid?"

Self-consciously, Karina realized she'd gotten to nigh on clinging to him. She pulled back a little and resolved to enjoy the ride. "Fine. Just a first experience, you know. Never ridden on one of these."

Jim laughed a little. "Well, don't worry. I'm an old pro."

Karina narrowed her eyes, realizing the gesture was slightly lost. "Jim. You haven't driven one of these for a year. Unless you secretly got a motorcycle sometime in the past year."

"Enjoy the journey, Kari. Everything else is details."

Admittedly, she did like the feel of the wind whipping past her, the horizon giving the impression that they were motionless until she gazed down at the road beneath them and saw it flying by. She could get used to one of these things, but driving one of her own…? Fortunately, she didn't really see that being an option with her future. The amount of time she'd be spending in space was going to make driving opportunities pretty thin on the ground.

"So where are we going again?" she asked, mentally sighing in exasperation at the hair blowing in her face. Her instinct to brush it away directly combatted her desire – and the wisdom thereof – of holding onto Jim for dear life.

"I want you to meet someone," Jim called back.

"Why not Cam or Bones?"

"Just trust me on this one. Besides, Bones has already met her."

" _Her_?" Karina asked, her tone quite clearly implying the direction of her thoughts.

"Oh, breathe, Kar. It's just my mother," Jim replied.

"Your…mother?" Karina didn't know why the idea seemed so ridiculous to her. She'd known Jim had a mother, knew that she'd been an officer of Starfleet. For some odd reason she'd just assumed the woman was dead. Jim didn't talk about her much, and Karina had just never questioned why. She didn't talk about her parents much, either. Then again, she'd barely known them.

Jim kept driving for about half an hour, and Karina lapsed into a thoughtful silence. Jim didn't question it. That was the thing about Karina. These days she either talked your ear off about anything under the sun or was silent for hours on end. There was no in between anymore. Something had changed in the girl since their encounter with the Romulans back in January.

Jim gritted his teeth. He'd never been a big fan of Romulans, considering how his father had died. After they'd beaten him to a pulp and nearly killed them all, he was even less fond of them than before. He wriggled his nose involuntarily, glad it had fully healed without a trace of crookedness. A grin spread over his face when he remembered Bones' expression.

"Unbelievable," he'd muttered. "Of course you get off scot-free facially. That break should have bent your nose in half, permanently. How'd the ladies like your new look, by the way?"

Jim winced inwardly. It had been an out-of-body experience, almost, having women look at him and then look away awkwardly. Cam and Karina were different, of course. He wasn't about to try anything with either of them. However, getting into his second advanced weapons course and having Juliet Harper flounce over, sit down, stare at him for a while and then pronounce, "You look awful" was not real high on his list of positive experiences.

Camille, on the other hand, had found it hysterical. Painfully so.

"How much farther is it?" Karina finally asked. Jim smiled.

"I was wondering whether you were alive back there," he said. "Yeah, we should be pulling up pretty soon."

"How long has it been since you saw your mother, Jim?" she asked. "You never talk about her, so it has me kind of curious."

"Well, I brought Bones up to meet her the first week off. We've been by her house a couple of times."

"Why are you bringing just me this time?" she continued, and Jim braced himself for another barrage of questions.

"Mostly," he said, "because she's been in the market for someone to 'mom' lately. And I think she's realizing that I'm a bit past that phase."

"So you're offering me as a teenage sacrifice?"

Jim pulled it to a stop in front of an ancient-looking cabin. It stood in the middle of a field, like a picture of a homestead from one of the equally-ancient textbooks the nuns used when Karina was growing up. Almost completely gray logs, it looked as though it were in need of some serious repairs. Karina eyed Jim, her face clearly saying, "You let your mother live in this run-down shack?"

Once again, Jim winced inwardly, guilt permeating his shell. He didn't exactly feel great about the way he let his mother live. But then again, sometimes he thought she liked it. Plus, she wasn't exactly decrepit. The woman would probably insist on fixing the house up herself if she wanted it.

"Actually, I brought you here because I thought you could use some… 'momming.'" Jim concluded lamely. "For lack of a better word. I'm sure you could come up with something more fitting. In some language or other."

Karina, who had been staring at the ground, shook her head. "Actually, I think that's the perfect term."

Jim smiled and put an arm around her. "Come on, kiddo. Let's meet Mom."

Winona Kirk definitely wasn't what you would call a "domestic" woman, that was for sure. Then again, such women were few and far between these days. But that didn't change the fact that by the time Karina was nearly finished with her visit, she'd felt significantly more mothered than she'd ever felt in her life.

The sun was sinking low on the horizon when Winona finally pushed her chair back and said, "You might want to think about heading out soon here, Jim. It isn't always safe to be out on the road at night."

Jim looked at Karina. The visit with his mom had been good for her, he could tell. But Mom had a point. The fields weren't safe places at night for those just driving along. They were popular places for the hover-gangs to hang out – groups of thugs who had somehow engineered vehicles like the ones the robo-cops used. Mom had tried to get the law to crack down on them, it sounded like, but they had more important things to worry about.

Jim wasn't exactly proud of his past dealings with the hover-gangs. But it did make things slightly safer for him traveling on the road alone at night. They knew him, knew his dealings. If it had been just him he would have been more tempted to stay a bit later, maybe check and see if Mom needed anything done around the house tomorrow or something.

But he wasn't on his own. He had Karina with him this time, and regardless of his status with them, hover-gangs weren't exactly known for their chivalry. They wouldn't let Kari get by them without trying to have a little fun first. Knowing he had to protect his friend made it a bit easier leaving his mom's place without fixing some stuff up first.

"Will I see you before you head back?" Winona asked, hugging Karina. Jim hated to disappoint either of them. The pair had bonded so well.

"I don't think so, Mom," he said. "We'll be going back day after tomorrow. And apparently Cam's wanting to find a place for swimming or something tomorrow."

Karina looked from mother to son, slightly uneasy for some unknown reason. "Can we maybe come back after that?"

Jim shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

Karina's grin hadn't been this bright in ages. It brought a spark of joy to Jim's heart to see it as she strapped on her helmet. His mother raised an eyebrow.

"You know, you all could just stay with me next summer. That's a viable option." Her look held back nothing. She wanted him to feel every ounce of guilt that he was, and that was just Mom's way. It was how she had raised him…when she'd been on the same planet.

"I'll talk to them about it," he muttered. "That's all I'm going to promise here, Mom. It's Starfleet. I don't even know whether we'll be on the planet next summer."

"Okay, then. Just…call every once in a while then, all right? I'm your mother, Jim. I'd like to hear that you're alive."

Karina's turn came to wince inwardly. She still bore some feeling of responsibility for the disaster that had almost befell all of her friends six months ago. And when you heard the mother of a man that you'd almost gotten killed talk about hearing whether he was alive or not… Well, it wasn't exactly a pleasant sensation.

Jim nodded. "I will, Mom. Once a week good enough for you?"

She shrugged, and Karina shook her head, noting the little similarities in gestures between the two.

"It's better than what I'm getting now, at least." Winona reached up and hugged him. "I'll see you kids tomorrow. Keep safe."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Kirk," Karina said, hoping her voice relayed the tone her voice would have. "I'll make sure he stays out of trouble."

"I'm counting on it," she said. "That's a level-headed one there, Jim."

Jim shook his head. "You haven't seen her take out a platoon of Romulans with a phaser."

With that, he got on the bike and gunned it. Karina wasn't about to be as quiet this time around, it appeared.

"Okay, spill it. What's up with you and your mom?"

"She left me with my jerk uncle for years at a time while she was off-planet. I think that's enough for you to hear."

"Yeah, but she's changed. She regrets that. Can't you tell?"

"I'd really rather not talk about it, Kari."

"At least you have a mom, Jim!"

That got him quiet. How could he sit here and explain to this girl, an orphan, the complicated relationship he had with his mother? She, who saw their relationship and longed for a mother at all?

"I mean, you don't have to be her. You just have to drop her a line every once in a while." She didn't have to state what was implied. Very clearly, he heard it: _If I had a mother…_

Jim saw a group of hovercraft on the horizon and slowed the ignition. He swore under his breath. They covered the horizon. He had a very narrow window to get through that would keep him out of their line of sight.

"Kari, I need you to be really quiet for about five minutes," he whispered. Not that she'd been talking too entirely much, but this conversation had the potential to go two different ways. Which he'd be perfectly willing to go – after he got her away from this danger.

Though he hadn't told her about the gangs, Karina had an intuition that could sense danger a mile away when she chose to pause long enough to listen to it. He could tell it was kicking in here, because she clung to him, keeping her head pressed against his back. If he wasn't completely focused on getting through the veritable blockade in front of him, he would have thought of how great it felt to be implicitly trusted.

But at the moment, he needed to make good on that trust.


	2. Chapter 2

**In which Bones has some - ahem - internal struggles, Camille meddles, and Karina swears off men. ( _Sure_.) Enjoy!**

 **I own none of the lovely men in this chapter, however all my OCs and the plot belong to me!**

* * *

"Your neck giving you issues?" Bones asked, noticing Camille rolling her head from side to side.

"Eh, it's not so much my neck as my shoulders," she muttered, reaching back and rubbing the spot between her right shoulder blade and collarbone. She still couldn't get to that one spot that was bugging her. She'd been going non-stop the past week. Bones couldn't make sense of how one woman could find so much to occupy her time in Iowa, of all places, but Camille Osbourne had made do.

He toyed around with the idea in his head. Her back was turned to him, so he shouldn't feel so utterly ridiculous for visibly changing his mind several times over, opening his mouth to offer, then shaking his head and retracting it. He didn't want to seem…what was the term Karina would use? Creepy. That was it. He didn't want to seem creepy, but at the same time, he knew exactly how to rub her shoulders to get the kink out…

The slamming of the door made him nearly jump out of his skin.

"Jumpy much, Bones?" Jim asked, smirking. Bones' gaze traveled from Jim's face, showing a leftover pallor from some experience on the road, to the small, black-clad figure beside him. Bones bit back an identical smirk at the sight of Karina in leather and with the cavernous helmet engulfing her face. The kid definitely wasn't meant to be a biker, that was for certain.

"You're one to talk," Bones muttered. "You look like you've been through hell."

Karina removed her helmet, the static in her hair popping and only adding to the entertainment. "We barely made it past the hover-gangs intact. Jim was great, though."

Bones shook his head. "You would be freakishly good at working that death-mobile," he muttered.

"Any chance I could test that thing out tomorrow, Jim?" Camille asked. Bones eyes about popped out of his sockets. Karina, missing nothing, erupted into a fit of giggling. The other three switched their stares to her, and she turned bright red, but was not nearly enough to dispel her laughter.

"Um, I'll be right back," she said. "I need to… use the bathroom."

She stumbled off into the apartment's bathroom, breathing heavily. She was working on keeping her emotions unreadable, becoming less of an open book, but the look on Bones' face when Camille asked to try out the "death-mobile" was priceless.

Karina wasn't blind. She saw clearly that Bones was attracted, quite seriously, to her friend. But when it came to meddling in the matter, well, that was Jim's business. No, Karina was content to sit back and laugh at how utterly uncomfortable the fact obviously made Bones. The show never disappointed.

The door creaked open, and Camille joined her, a knowing smile ghosting her face.

"Having a little bit of fun at Bones' expense there, are we?" Camille asked, taking a seat on the counter. Karina, for lack of a better spot, lowered the toilet lid and parked herself there.

"You can't tell me you weren't a little bit entertained by that," Karina said. "He looked like he was about to pass out when you mentioned taking the bike out for a spin."

Camille rolled her eyes. "Overprotective doesn't begin to describe the man. I mean, he saves my life once and suddenly everything I might do that endangers it even slightly is his personal business."

It was Karina's turn to make bugger eyes. Did Camille actually not see it? But one look at the glint in Cam's hazel eyes was enough to tell her: Of course she knew. She was having just as much fun watching Bones squirm as Karina. But the one thing Karina couldn't read was whether Camille shared the attraction. Though Camille seemed more okay with people knowing what she thought, she was also less of an open book than Karina. It was a fact that Karina envied more than most things about her friend. Why was it that the people who were more okay with being open about everything could hide things the best?

"So, Karina," Camille began. "I think we need to talk about something."

Karina frowned. Was this about the chocolate she'd stolen from Cam's desk drawer? Crap, she'd hoped she'd taken a small enough amount as to be unnoticeable, but once again, she wasn't that great at hiding things.

"Okay, I'm sorry about that," Karina began. "For one thing, I was bored, lonely, and a little snackish. For another, it was _that_ time. For a third, you shouldn't just go around telling people where you stash your chocolate if – "

"Wait, what?"

"This isn't about – oh. Never mind."

Camille's eyes narrowed. "We'll address that later. Meanwhile, what I was actually talking about: So, before break, I noticed that Jenkins kid from Engineering make googly eyes at you."

Karina was slightly taken aback. "Uh-huh. And?"

"So, he's cute, right?"

"I guess. What's your point?"

"Come on, Kari. You can't tell me you don't notice boys anymore."

Karina shrugged. "I guess not. I mean, my first experience wasn't exactly a great one. I just need a break, Cam. I'll get back there eventually."

"When?"

Groaning at her friend's persistence, Karina repeated her shrug. "A couple of years. I'm fifteen, what's the hurry here?"

Camille stood up. "I can't just let you give up on the male race, Kar. You're the adorable one here. If either of us is cynical, it should be me. And I just have this feeling, your Prince Charming is out there somewhere. But you may have to do some looking. The poor idiot might have gotten stuck in a tree."

"Why would I want someone who can't get himself out of a tree?" Karina asked, rising with her and going to unlock the door. "And besides, like I said earlier, had you deigned to listen, I'm only fifteen. I've got time. My worth is not measured by whether I have any…prospects. Okay?"

Camille smiled and shook her head. "You're not supposed to be this mature, kid. What happened to the teenager inside you?"

"Someone's gotta keep Jim in line," she said. "When Bones isn't around, anyway."

Cam laughed, putting her arm around the younger girl and walking down the hallway to the room the pair of them shared. "Ain't that the truth?"

* * *

The shuttle ride went straight from Riverside to San Francisco, but Camille didn't mind so much. A lot of people liked having layovers so they could stretch their legs every once in a while, but she was comfortable on a shuttle. After all, she _was_ born to fly.

Bones, on the other hand, on her right, was having some serious issues. She looked over at him, looking like he was about to hyperventilate, and remembered the first time she'd ridden on a shuttle with Bones. It also happened to have been her first encounter with the man. Amazing how your estimation of a person could change in the course of a year.

Still, he was being a bit of a baby about the whole thing. Shuttles were safer than most forms of travel, but then again, Bones thought all vehicles were metal contraptions of death. Camille wondered briefly what the heck the man would do in space. Then she shook her head, realizing there was no point in wondering. Bones would handle it like he handled everything.

With comments under his breath about their imminent doom and general pessimism.

"How's the aviaphobia?" she asked, keeping a tight rein on her tone. He'd know she was messing with him, regardless of the amount of sarcasm she inserted. And indeed, she received a rather brilliant glare.

"Don't ask me questions, woman. My lunch is threatening to come up if I risk opening my mouth," Bones growled at her.

Karina, on Camille's other side, was shifting around in her seat, trying to get comfortable. They'd barely slept the night before. Rooming with your best friend was bad for some people, but the girls made it work. Unfortunately, that also meant that when you had things to discuss, you tended to get very little healthy slumber. And Cam hadn't quite been willing to let the subject of boys drop. She didn't know why she was so persistent about this topic, but she just had a feeling she needed to make sure it was in the forefront of Karina's mind.

So not only was Karina tired, she was also irritated. Camille got the feeling she'd be spending a lot of time talking to Jim and Bones on this particular shuttle ride. Karina wasn't a big fan of flying, not terrified of it like Bones, but rather found it confining. Once again, Camille wasn't sure how these two would do in space. Then again, a starship was less confining than a shuttle, so Kari would probably do just fine.

Camille had a tendency to worry about how her friends were going to cope in space, she knew. Maybe it was maternal instinct for Karina – though she doubted that was what it was for Bones. Jim was really the only one she never worried about. He'd do just fine, she had no doubt. Sometimes when the pair of them talked about what duty on a starship would be like, she could swear she saw the galaxies reflected in the man's piercing blue eyes, and she knew he would be a natural.

By the time they landed in San Francisco, Karina had fallen asleep on Camille's shoulder – a feat for the girl, who found sleeping on shuttles difficult. She gently shook her awake.

"Kari," she whispered. "We're home."

It felt slightly disconcerting to Camille to refer to San Francisco as home. That title still belonged to New York City for her, but she knew Karina considered Starfleet Academy her home, so when speaking to her, Camille always referred to it as such.

Bones was obviously trying to maintain some dignity and not bolt off the shuttle. It helped, she supposed, that Jim was standing there, probably with some device ready to film any reaction Bones may give beyond the usual.

Once the four of them were off the shuttle, Karina immediately turned toward the south. Standing tall above the shipyard was Starfleet headquarters, and next to that, the Academy. Camille smiled at her younger friend's reaction. The kid had this wonder for life and all things in it that she supposed came from being raised basically in hermitage. Camille went up and grabbed her hand.

"We won't get back any faster by staring at it, Kari," she muttered.

* * *

Being home was a good feeling. Karina looked around at everyone milling through the commons, the officers maintaining a certain degree of dignity, but the cadets throwing all of that to the side, greeting their friends that they hadn't seen for a month, or, if they were new, just sort of trying to blend in with the crowd. Karina recognized those. She might have been one last year, had she not had the confidence-exuding Camille by her side the entire time.

Of course, if her luck held from last year, right about now she should be –

Running into someone, which of course she did. She might as well have been going full speed for the force with which they collided. Karina tried steadying herself, but her normal awkwardness was overpowering and she found herself teetering on her feet.

For the first time, the person she ran into actually reached out and steadied her. And for the first time, Karina actually got a good look at him.

It was a boy about her age, she would have guessed. Piercing green eyes with a hint of blue looked directly at her brown ones. She took in a riot of light brown curls and – dang. Those were some really great Slavic cheekbones. Karina had never actually taken the time to look at the people she'd run into, but she certainly wasn't complaining about this one.

Until she realized that the fact that she'd just run full-on into him made things rather awkward. She straightened herself out, tried to pass off the fact that she'd probably just been staring, and quickly made her exit, apologizing.

* * *

He was pretty sure by now he must be a magnet or something. What else would explain the fact that she always ran into him – literally? That had nothing to do with him. It was always when he was minding his own business that the girl showed up and practically knocked him off his feet every time.

Looking after her, he vaguely wondered why he was out of breath. Shaking his head and passing it off as nothing, he rejoined the flow of people who were returning from the break. He'd been called into Captain Pike's office that day. The man had paid him absolutely no mind for a year, so he was at a loss as to why, but it seemed like a more important thing to think about than the girl who never looked where she was going.


	3. Chapter 3

**Good morning and happy Friday, my lovely readers! You have no idea how much I've been looking forward to today. This was one of my favorite chapters to write (well, vaguely introductory chapters, anyway). I was giggling maniacally the entire time. Hope you enjoy this particular bit of plot development.**

 **Now, I'm not usually one to reply to reviews in my author's notes, but for the person (you know who you are) who hazarded a guess at a potential future plot line: I ain't saying nothing! :) Mwahahahahahahahahahaha!**

 **Disclaimer: Once again, I only own my OCs. Jim, Bones, and anyone else are not mine.**

* * *

"Kari!" Camille called. "Where is my chocolate?"

Karina sat directly up in bed. "Okay, I know my track record is not the best here, but I swear, I did _nothing_. I don't know where your chocolate stash is, I swear."

Camille's eyes narrowed. "Forgive me if I don't quite believe you."

And she rushed at Karina.

Karina, fully prepared for this, tucked and rolled off the bed. Cam's flying leap resulted in nothing but her flopping down on the mattress, her arms empty of her intended target. Letting out an enraged roar, she clawed her way up and took off after Karina, who had raced for the bathroom.

"If you want to successfully capture me, Cam, don't teach me how to defend myself!" Karina taunted before slamming the door and locking it.

Camille threw herself against the door. Anyone who didn't know the two girls might think she was overreacting over a few sweets, but in all actuality, the pair of them were just messing around with each other. Had Camille been able to catch her, the most harm that would have come to Karina would maybe have been some tickling.

However, the older girl was seriously starting to regret the self-defense lessons she'd given her friend. This was the fourth time in the past month she'd tried to grab Karina, and the slippery little sneak had always managed to escape her clutches. Every. Single. Time.

"Dammit, Kari, let me in!"

"Sure, Bones. Of course I will. Just as soon as Jim returns your chocolate stash." A pause came from the other side of the door. "Wait. Isn't that supposed to only be for emergencies?"

"Don't change the subject here, Kari. Now, what do you know about Jim?"

Karina made the mistake of assuming she was safe. Opening the door, she was met with a tackle to the floor. Camille knelt on top of her, her knee caps touching Karina's shoulders. Staring directly into Karina's eyes, Camille said without blinking, "Where has he hidden it?"

Karina looked genuinely terrified. "You have the crazy eyes, did you know?"

"That's the goal. Now spill." Camille found herself even more irked when it became clear Karina was trying not to smile through her terror.

"I will not betray him," she said, affecting a melodramatic air. "I'm no snitch!"

"I know where you hide your language addict kit," Cam threatened.

Karina's eyes widened. The one true sign of her geekiness, the box under her bed filled with anything and everything having to do with the different languages and cultures of both Earth and the galaxy. Her instant solution to boredom. And if there was one major phobia Karina had nowadays, it was a fear of boredom.

"You wouldn't."

"I might."

"He has it under his bed. He snuck in here last night and stole it. On my honor."

Camille let her up, fake glaring at her and shaking her head in mock disgust. "What honor? To betray me like this? You have none."

Karina stood and walked back into the room, bowing as she went through the door. "I have the honor of a thief, my lady. Come on, I'll show you where he's got it. He should be out at this point. I heard him complaining about having class at eight yesterday."

Both girls stopped short, however, when they saw that there was a memo on the message board. These were a new installment of Starfleet, sort of like what had once been called e-mail, but faster. If an officer wanted to get ahold of a cadet, they had only to type in a message on their personal messenger and it would pop up on the cadet's board. If the cadet was in, they couldn't miss it. Camille and Karina hadn't received a message yet. They both crowded around the board.

"Wonder which of us it's for?" Camille asked before opening it.

"One way to find out," Karina said, nodding. Cam clicked on the message and it pulled up on screen.

"It's for you," she said, turning to Karina, who swallowed. While the feature was cool, it was still a little disconcerting to be contacted by an officer before she knew what it was about. Breathing in deeply, she read the text.

 _Bartowski,_

 _I need to see you in my office tomorrow at 10. A matter has arisen that we need to discuss as soon as possible._

Karina was even more uncomfortable to see that it was Pike's name at the bottom of the note. Feeling a little unsteady on her feet, she sat down on her desk, which happened to be right next to the board. Camille read the message and turned back to her friend.

"Well, that's not necessarily a bad thing, you know," Camille said, attempting to ease Karina's nerves. "Just because an officer calls you in, it's not a reprimand. And you haven't done anything to be reprimanded for…besides assisting Jim in thievery."

Karina ran her fingers through her hair, a sure sign that Camille's efforts were fruitless. Her lips were pursed, indicative that she was deep in thought.

"I know I haven't done anything, so I don't think it's a reprimand," Karina said. "But what could it be?" A terrifying thought occurred to her. "Cam…what if he's changed his mind? What if he doesn't want me on his crew anymore? What if I'm off the _Enterprise_?"

The panic slowly rose in her voice. All she wanted was the security of knowing that she was on the same crew as Jim, Camille, and Bones. Being separated from the people she'd come to think of as family scared her far more than boredom ever had. It hadn't even crossed her mind until then that it might be a possibility.

Camille was already shaking her head, though, halfway through Karina's expression of her fears.

"I highly doubt it," she said. "You kind of saved Starfleet."

"You, Jim, and Bones had something to do with it too, you know," Karina put in. "I mean, I just listened to some transmissions and nearly got us all killed. You guys actually successfully fought the Romulans off."

"Whatever," Camille said. "None of that would have been worth anything if they'd gotten their hands on the weapons system, which you prevented by sticking to it. Why would he reward you and then just take that away, after what you did?"

She reached out and pulled Karina off the desk. "Come on. I might let you have some of that chocolate, when we find it. And you can make it through a _day_ before meeting with Pike."

* * *

Bones, headed to the clinic, stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the girls leaving Jim's room. What the heck was Camille doing in Jim's room? Wait. Did she have chocolate? Was Jim giving her chocolate?

The fact that it bothered him so much made Bones highly uncomfortable. If he'd been one to squirm, he probably would have. He supposed Jim and Camille were close enough. He shouldn't be shocked if something developed there. Besides, Jim was closer in age to Camille than…wait. Than whom? Him? Ha.

No, he was merely…looking out for Camille's well-being. Jim wasn't known for being the most committed of men in relationships, and he just didn't want to see her get hurt. That was it. That was all.

He had to keep telling himself that as he made his way to the clinic. But he fervently hoped he did not run into Jim, as he might have trouble eking out pleasantries. Well, more trouble than normal.

* * *

Karina straightened her red skirt for the fiftieth time since she'd sat down outside Pike's office. He had an appointment before her, as well, apparently. And it was taking forever. Karina checked her watch. 10:15. What in the name of all that was holy could take so utterly long?

Mentally checking herself, she breathed in and out deeply a couple of times. Pike was an important official in Starfleet. The man was head of the Academy, for goodness' sake! He probably had something very important going on right now, something that made her appointment pale in comparison, and she needed to just be patient. It was a Tuesday, so she didn't have a class until noon. She had plenty of time.

But the prospect of what this appointment might be about continued to niggle at her. What ifs ran through her mind at one hundred miles an hour. Other than what she'd contemplated yesterday morning, she could think of no other reason the captain would want to see her.

Instinctively, her hand went up to her hair, and she ran her fingers through it. Before she got to the bottom, however, she hit a snag. Retracting her hands, Karina settled for gritting her teeth. That seemed like a viable alternative.

Her life was kind of like that. She would be sailing along, pushing back the strands of hair, when suddenly her path was blocked by a snag. Wondering how big of a snag this meeting would prove to be, she prepared herself to accept whatever the captain told her graciously.

At long last, the door opened. She recognized the older man who exited as Admiral Marcus, head of Starfleet. Her nerves, compiled with slight intimidation, roiled in her stomach, threatening nausea. She swallowed hard, knowing that it wouldn't do at this point to lose her breakfast all over Marcus' shoes.

Fortunately, the man didn't even look her way. He merely turned down the corridor and walked away, and Karina almost breathed a sigh of relief. It caught in her throat, however, and she wondered if that was how Camille felt when she had her episodes. But Cam hadn't had a problem with her lungs in ages, at least, nothing major. They had Bones to thank for that one.

Karina knocked on the side of Pike's door. The captain, who had been massaging his temples as though he had a headache, stood and motioned her to come in.

"Bartowski," he greeted her. "Have a seat."

Karina blinked, but obeyed. Normally, protocol required that she, as the cadet, remain standing, so whatever Pike had to say, it obviously was either going to take a while or be a shock. She prayed fervently that it was the former, if either.

"You asked to see me, sir?" she said, hoping her voice didn't sound as small as it felt.

"Yes," he said. It sounded as though he was thinking, wondering where he should begin. Karina felt cold sweat start to break out under her uniform and bit back frustration.

"I won't beat around the bush here, Cadet," he said. "You're a bright kid. Only fifteen and already one of the top xenolinguistics recruits we have. You've improved since you came to us last year, and you were already stellar. And on top of that, you stopped an invasion in its tracks."

"I had help, sir," she interjected. He smiled and nodded, and she felt herself begin to breathe again. Humility was always a good policy in these situations.

"That you did," he said. "And you know it's my desire to have you serve under me on the _Enterprise_. But as I said in my message, a slight complication has arisen."

Karina felt her heart drop to her stomach. So that was it. She'd been right.

"Starfleet protocol mandates that we give the top cadets in their field the right to pick which ship they serve on. And while you are one of our best…you're not quite at the top. Our top xenolinguistics cadet has requested a position on the Enterprise. For confidentiality purposes, I can't disclose their name, only that they are trained for the exact same job as you, Bartowski."

Karina nodded, fighting back the emotion that threatened. "I understand, sir. And I fully accept your decision – "

"I wasn't quite finished, Cadet."

She stopped short, nodded and let him continue. But he didn't continue. He merely looked her up and down, as though deciding whether what he was about to say was a good idea. He was silent for so long she nearly jumped out of her skin when he spoke again.

"How is your Russian, Cadet Bartowski?"

Karina stared at him for a good fifteen seconds before finally replying, "My…Russian, Captain?"

"Yes. The language. It says on your application that it's one of the…twenty you speak?"

Frowning, she said, "It's…satisfactory, I suppose, Captain Pike. May I ask why?"

For crying out loud, why had she played it down? Actually, it was one of her favorite languages, one she was better at than most others. So why had she said it was only satisfactory? She didn't know why it was so vital that she speak Russian, but what if he needed better than "satisfactory?" _What if he needed_ fluency?!

She reminded herself that breathing was still necessary no matter how freaked out she was and listened to Captain Pike's next statement.

"I'm going to level with you here. My hands are kind of tied. I don't know if you saw Admiral Marcus on the way out, but he's given me very few options. I can break protocol and tell the other cadet to pick another ship, when they've earned the right to choose, or I can do that to you. And as far as I'm concerned, you've earned the right, too. Marcus thinks you're just a kid who probably couldn't handle the position you would be assigned anyway."

"What position, Captain?" she asked, curiosity making her forget the boundaries of respect. The fact that he wasn't explaining the comment about her Russian abilities was bad enough. But letting her stew about _that_ one was too much.

"You would have had a bridge position," Pike replied. Fortunately, the man didn't seem to mind when she interrupted. Regrettably, Karina realized, she'd done that quite a bit during this conversation. Determining that she would just let Pike explain from thereon out, she sat back and let it sink in. A position on the _bridge_ of the _USS Enterprise._ That was what she had lost. Or not.

"However, he has agreed to let me experiment with something," Pike continued. "Taking two situations where my hands are tied and seeing if they can work the knots out together."

Why did Karina get the feeling she was now filed in Pike's desk under the title "situation?"

"You remember, Cadet, when I was looking for my crew this last winter, I was struggling to find someone in the navigation field?" he asked.

Karina nodded, not following.

"Well, I think I found my guy here. Real bright kid, something of a prodigy, like yourself. Once again, top of the class. Seems like I have my decision cut out for me, right? Not so much. The problem is, this cadet is fluent in Russian, but not a whole heck of a lot else. Don't ask me how he passed our entrance exams without speaking Standard, but, like I said, bright kid. Now, say we're being fired on by a party of Klingon war birds. I can't have the complication of an interpreter in that situation. I need my crew to be able to speak Standard English.

"However, as in your case, I like giving people what they deserve, and I'd say he's earned this spot. So, once again, I'm between a rock and a hard place," Pike finished. "You ever taught anyone Standard before, Bartowski?"

Karina shook her head. "I haven't, sir, but I understand the basic concept of teaching Standard. I taught myself nineteen other languages." Crap. Was she bragging now? Oh, crap.

"All right, I'll make a deal with you, then. You get this cadet speaking decent enough English by the time the pair of you are ready to join the crew, and the positions – both of which are bridge positions by the way – are yours. This sound reasonable to you, Bartowski?" He rose, signifying that when she rose to give her answer, their meeting would be over.

Karina couldn't stand fast enough. "More than reasonable, sir. I'm willing, if you think it's the best solution."

"Excellent," Pike said. "I'll make any necessary arrangements for the pair of you. Good luck, Cadet. Personally, I hope you can make this work."

Karina wasn't quite finished yet, however.

"Wait just a moment, sir. I have a few questions myself, before I leave."

He nodded, and she was glad her response hadn't seemed out of line. After all, he technically hadn't dismissed her yet, but still, their standing should have signified that the meeting was over. Karina knew that Pike was not one to mess with, from what Jim had told her about the man. But she also had found him to be more laid back than most Starfleet officers once you got past the intimidating exterior, a trait she appreciated.

"What will happen to the other cadet, Captain Pike? The one whose place I will be taking. If I succeed, what does that mean for them?"

Pike hesitated for just a moment before responding.

"I'm not sure at this point in time, Cadet. I'm fairly certain she will still be able to serve on the _Enterprise_ , just start a bit further down the chain of command. Don't worry about her, Bartowski. We won't be entirely unfair. Marcus has agreed that if this works, he'll loosen up on protocol a bit."

Karina nodded, and Pike eyed her, seeing if she was actually going to leave yet.

"Will that be all?" he asked. She didn't get the impression he was eager for her to be gone, so she shook her head.

"Just one more question, sir," she said. "Could I get a name? For the cadet I'll be teaching. I figure that's a good thing for me to know going into this."

Pike opened his mouth to respond, then frowned. Bending down to one of his desk drawers, he riffled through a file while muttering, "Name? Something impossibly Russian that I can never remember…Peter Chomsky or something."

Karina resisted the urge to peek over his desk at the drawer. The man had always struck her as an organized person, but with the amount of time it was taking him to find this file…she was beginning to doubt.

"Ah, here it is," Pike said, bringing up a paper-thin folder. The guy must keep a low profile, Karina thought. She'd personally seen her own folder and it was an inch thick. Apparently stopping a Romulan invasion did that. Cam, Bones, and Jim, were much the same. This folder, however, held a single sheet of paper. Why she found that odd, she couldn't explain. Maybe she thought Pike should know more than a few select facts about his crew.

He scanned the paper, then looked up at her.

"Chekov," he said. "His name's Pavel Chekov. That good enough for you to go on, Bartowski?"

Karina smiled. "That'll be all, Captain."

"Dismissed then, Cadet. And once again, good luck."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: In which Bones has some - ahem - _concerns,_ Camille gets to be the doctor for once, Jim done messes up (excuse my abysmal grammar), and Karina is a bit, shall we say, conflicted. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the great and glorious Dr. Leonard McCoy, James T. Kirk, or Pavel Chekov. Nor do I own Star Trek in general. I only own my OCs and the plot.**

* * *

Bones looked up when the door opened, and inwardly groaned. Jim swaggered in, that ear to ear, perfectly white grin indicative of only one thing.

The man had a date.

Bones prepared himself for his reaction. There was no reason for him to overreact. They were both adults. Jim was a bit old for Camille, and he attributed his ability to see that to his being older than either of them. Surely if he advised against this, one or the both of them would have to listen, right? This generation had to have some respect for its elders left.

Bones shook his head. If he'd been crazy enough to voice his thoughts out loud – which he wasn't, not on his life – he would sound like a jealous teenager. Really? Respect for their elders? Did his position as a whopping three years older than Jim count as an elder?

 _Get it together, Leo,_ he told himself. _It's none of your business what they do. Camille isn't your sister. She certainly isn't your daughter. So get your head out of your –_

"Deep in thought much?" Jim asked, his grin transforming into a smirk. Bones could have cheerfully throttled him, but he swallowed the urge and formed what he hoped was a pleasant expression. Evidently it wasn't, because Jim looked genuinely concerned.

"Bones, what's wrong?"

Pleasantry had never been his strong suit. Why he'd even attempted was beyond him. So he settled for neutral.

"Nothing's wrong, Jim. Just…" Bones scrabbled mentally for an excuse. Something preferably medical. "…heartburn."

Fortunately, Jim seemed too lost in his own bliss to see right through that lame attempt. Or unfortunately. They'd see.

"Well, I've had a very _interesting_ day," Jim began. Bones tried holding back, but he was about to break the syringe he held if he didn't say something. The combined force of how much he wanted to give Jim a piece of his mind and the effort it took to not do so could be likened to plate tectonics.

"Look, Jim," Bones interrupted. "It's not that I don't think the pair of you would be great together. Okay, correction, I think the pair of you would be dismal together. Which is why I have to say something. I can't in good conscious just – "

The confusion on Jim's face could be likened to the confusion after an earthquake hit. "Wait. Me and who?"

Bones could physically feel his mind backpedaling. What had he been thinking? There was a reason he'd trained himself to listen to patients – or very irritating friends – before leaping to conclusions! How did he get out of this one?

"Oh. You didn't just ask Juliet out?" Bones amended, hoping he sounded convincing.

Jim frowned. "Juliet? Since when did you think I had designs on Juliet?"

Bones shrugged. "Last I checked, you were into anything that wears a skirt. And I do mean anything. I mean, come on, Jim. I saw you sneaking a girl with a tail into your room the week before hiatus."

"Well, for your information, I didn't. You mention relationships and Juliet runs. So let's talk about what I was _actually_ coming here to tell you," Jim said.

"Doesn't have to do with skirts?"

"Nope. Not in the way you mean, anyway," Jim replied. "I guess Kari technically wears a skirt, but anyway."

Bones' interest was piqued. He may not have the big brother relationship that Jim had developed with the kid, but Karina was still a friend. He gestured for Jim to go on while he continued with what he'd been doing: cleaning syringes. It was tedious work, and he needed a good distraction.

"So, for one of my classes, I have this hideous report to write," Jim began, his eyes lighting up with the possibility of a good mystery. "It's supposed to be on some big event in the history of Starfleet, right? Well, I was doing some research – "

"You? Actually doing homework? There's a shock," came a voice from the door that sent a jolt up Bones' spine. Camille came and sat down between them. Ever since he'd had more visitors and less patients, considering Camille's tendency to injure herself had lain dormant for a while, Bones had incorporated more chairs into the clinic. None of the other doctors or medical cadets seemed to question it, and he preferred to keep it that way.

But what was with that jolt? Bones almost wished to be a squirming kind of man in that instance, if only to fidget a bit and erase the memory of it from his anatomy.

"Very funny," Jim said, his grin widening as Camille gave him a playful shove. Bones wasn't sure what was with that smile she flashed at Jim, but he was brought back to reality when the syringe in his hand smashed. He grimaced in pain as a shard of glass sliced into his hand and blood poured onto the table. Not only would the wound need binding, but the destroyed syringe would be billed to him, _and_ he'd need to double sterilize the rest of them, which were now covered in his life's marrow.

Camille jumped to her feet.

"Jeez, Bones!" she exclaimed. "What's the problem?"

She ran to his cabinets. Briefly wondering what the crazy woman was doing, Bones realized she was going for his bandages. He too leaped to his feet and started toward her.

"I can manage – "

"Whoa there, cowboy," she said, whirling, meeting him in the middle, pressing a hand against his chest and pushing him straight back down into his chair. Bones was reeling from what that simple touch had done to his brain. It was like it short-circuited and was now willing to do whatever she demanded.

Even if that was letting someone else be the doctor for a while.

"You are bleeding all over this room," Camille told him, going back to the cabinet. "Try to keep it at least slightly contained, okay?" She turned to Jim. "Can you do something about that blood while you talk?"

Suddenly Jim looked rather queasy. "Um, I don't do so well around…" he gazed down at the infected syringes and the red liquid pooling around them.

Camille rolled her eyes.

"Men are such babies," she muttered. "Fine, I'll get it after I wrap up the cowboy here."

Bones narrowed his eyes at her. "Cowboy?" he asked, the skepticism evident in his voice. Not that he was trying to contain it.

She shrugged. "It suits you. Between the Southern roots and the Kentucky Derby metaphors. Now Jim, do you think you can stay conscious long enough to let me doctor this guy?"

Jim nodded, swallowing, and pressed forward. Meanwhile, Camille sat down and began tending Bones' injuries. He tried to focus on what Jim was saying, but she was making that damn difficult, what with her surprisingly gentle touch, the way her skin brushing against his every once in a while sent his heart racing, the way she bit her lip in concentration. How she managed to be so focused and yet listen to what Jim was saying was beyond him. Speaking of… he should probably tune in.

"Anyway," Jim said. "I was going over this Captain's dissertation. Apparently some prominent arms dealer in Russia and the head of Starfleet had a bit of a…falling out."

"Which actually means…?" Camille inquired, her concentrated voice barely a mutter.

Jim smiled at her astuteness, which made Bones instinctively clench his hand. Pain shot up his arm and Camille, in her typical hold-nothing-back fashion, grabbed his face with a single hand, making him look at her.

"If you would kindly hold still, Doctor," she growled, a glare crinkling her lovely face. Bones nodded. Evidently she now called him "cowboy" when she was pleased and "Doctor" when he was in trouble. He was aware of Jim's probing eyes on them and felt a small thrill of satisfaction.

Camille released him and went back to her task at hand. Literally. "Go on, Jim."

Jim had a strange look on his face. Bones' satisfaction increased. No doubt it was jealousy. Take that, why don't you, Kirk?

"Which actually means," Jim continued, "lots and lots of dead bodies."

Bones snorted. "Californians versus Russians. That's a battle theory I really don't want to see tested."

"So, there's this guy," Jim said. "It never says who he was, whether he was an officer of Starfleet or what. But apparently he stopped the attack single-handedly. Made some pretty powerful enemies along the way. And guess what his name was?"

Camille and Bones, temporarily forgetting the health code nightmare in front of them, both stared at Jim, waiting for his verdict. Bones actually found himself leaning forward, then caught himself and straightened out.

"Anthony Bartowski," Jim said, his words bringing a curtain of silence over the room.

The other two sat there in stunned silence. Bones looked at Camille. "Is that…?"

"Kari's dad?" she asked, meeting his gaze. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

Jim began to sober up. Apparently this next piece of news he had to deliver wasn't as intriguing. Or more grim. While Bones hoped fervently it was the first option, he had an odd feeling it was in fact that latter.

"But get this," Jim told them. "It went on to talk about the way he died. This attack was eleven years ago, right? That would have been right before he and Kari's mom were killed." Jim looked to Camille. "How does she believe they died, Cam?"

Camille, her voice slightly tremulous, said, "In a car crash."

Jim, uncharacteristically grim, shook his head.

"Not according to the report," he said. "Turns out they were both killed when someone planted a bomb in their house."

"Wait, what?" Camille asked. "But how is Karina still alive, then?"

Jim shrugged. "Who actually knows?" he asked.

Suddenly they all were startled out of their skin at the slamming of the door and the sight of a girl in red cadet uniform with a mane of brown hair hanging down her back running down the corridor.

Camille rose, her work binding Bones' hand conveniently finished. "Great job, Jim," she said. "You could have gone to her first, you know." And she strode out of the room after her friend.

* * *

Camille knocked on the door, which had been slammed and locked. Guilt ate at her gut. She knew she should have insisted Jim tell Karina first the instant she heard him drop the name Anthony Bartowski. But in her defense, there hadn't been much time before the kid had shown up. She'd been so wrapped up in Jim's story she hadn't even noticed Karina standing in the doorway.

How long had she been there, anyway?

"Kari," she called. "I know you're in there, there's no use pretending you're not." There was nothing but silence coming from the other side of the door. Camille silently cursed the fact that today, of all days, was the day she'd left her keychain hanging on her desk. Her card was the only way into this room without being let in. She turned her back to the door, slid down to the floor, and let out an exasperated sigh. This was getting to be irritating.

"Hey, it's my room, too, you know," she snapped over her shoulder. "Keeping me locked out is sort of unfair, don't you think, kiddo?"

There was a silence, then the door slid open. Karina met her with a completely blank stare. Camille might have congratulated her on masking her emotions so successfully if her red-rimmed eyes hadn't been a dead giveaway.

"I don't want to talk about what went down back there, Cam," she began, her voice valiantly attempting at steadiness.

"Well, too bad, sweetheart, because you're going to," Camille commanded, enlisting her definite "voice of authority", a talent she'd learned from growing up with a general for a father. Karina may be pushing the bonds of authority lately, but that voice still made her sit up and listen like a sad puppy.

Camille put an arm around her shoulders and led her to her bed. They sat down, Karina staying perched on the edge, Camille kicking off her shoes and getting comfortable, pulling her feet up and sitting criss-cross. She nailed Karina with a stare that wouldn't let the younger girl go, in spite of her facing away.

"So, what are you thinking right now?" Camille asked. "You're getting freaky good at hiding that from me, kid, and I kind of hate it. What happened to my girl from last year? I could read whatever you were thinking!"

"Maybe that's because I wanted you to, Cam," Karina said, her voice low and toneless. Her lack of expression in general was starting to make Camille uneasy. What indeed had happened to her girl?

"Back then, all I wanted was to be read," Karina said. "I'd hidden so much of myself away for so long, I just wanted someone to see me for who I really was. Now…I'm not sure anymore, Cam."

Camille was silent. She didn't think the situation called for her to respond and, to be quite honest, she didn't really know how.

"Okay," she said. "But about your dad… How did they manage to keep that from you?"

Karina shook her head.

"I barely remember my parents, much less that day," she said. "I just sort of remember someone dropping me off at the convent, the nuns telling me my parents were gone, and that was where I lived the rest of my life until I came here."

Camille frowned. "Would the nuns remember?"

"Maybe," Karina said. "I want to get to the bottom of this. I can't just let it sit."

"Now that wouldn't be the deathly curious Karina I know and love," Camille said, a smile tipping her lips and creeping into her voice.

"But I don't have time right now, Cam," Karina said, burying her face in her hands and bringing her hands up to run through her hair. Camille reached out and started rubbing her back, responding to the nervous tic.

"What do you mean you don't have time?"

Karina paused, her face deep in thought. Camille once again wished she could read her mind. If she had, she would have found that her friend was trying to figure out how to tell her about her visit with Pike without giving away her new student's gender. The last thing she needed was Camille latching onto an idea that, if everything went according to Karina's plan, would never come to fruition.

Somehow she managed it. The result of her visit with Pike was relayed without planting any thoughts in Camille's head, and the older girl leaned back on her elbows, taking it in.

"So, you were right after all," she said. "You were about to get kicked off the _Enterprise_."

Karina shrugged. "Yeah, I was. But I don't think this is going to be that hard of a task. I mean, we've got a solid year to get this done. And then, we're all happily employed, on the crew of one of the newest and most prestigious starships in the fleet. Either way, this is going to take up a lot of my time, and I can't spare time to investigate this sudden development in the death of my parents, now can I?"

"I don't see why not," Camille said. "A little busyness is good for you every once in a while. And I think both of these endeavors will be worth it."

Karina frowned. "I suppose so," she muttered.

Camille put an arm around her and squeezed. "I'll help you, too," she said. "If you want, I can call the abbey for you. Anything you need, provided it's not flinging myself from the top of the Academy, I can do. It's important that we know our pasts, and this presents a pretty big hole in yours."

Rising to go change into something more comfortable than her uniform, Camille called over her shoulder, "Also, you might want to go tell Jim he's forgiven for not coming straight to you with this news. Pretty sure between your reaction and my slight scolding, he's feeling like a wounded puppy at this point."

Karina rose, advancing on her friend.

"Wait just a minute here," she said, leaning against the doorjamb as Camille undressed. "How did you know I'd already forgiven Jim?"

Camille eyed her, slipping a T-shirt over her head. "Kar," she said, her voice making it obvious she thought the answer was clear. "I've been rooming with you for a year. You can barely hold a grudge for thirty seconds. And this is minor compared to what he could have done. Such as hiding it from you altogether, thinking he was sparing your feelings. Now go, child!"

Karina grinned and headed for the door. It almost escaped her notice that there was a message for her on the board. Checking it, she saw it was from Pike.

 _I've contacted Chekov about your decision. I also took the liberty of checking out both of your schedules personally. It looks like Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays 4-5:30 is the best time for both of you. Respond as soon as possible so I can get back to him. He's already confirmed that this will work._

Karina tapped in her reply. That should work, she thought as her brain continued racing fifty miles per hour. At least it wasn't one hundred miles per hour like normal. She might have to break out her language kit tonight. How exactly did one teach English when one had no formal education in doing so?

Opening the door, she stepped out into the hall and headed for Jim's room. Maybe it would be as simple as just reversing what she'd done when she'd learned Russian. Fortunately, she'd been smart enough to keep a log of her progress learning every single one of the twenty languages she knew – even the ones she'd been forced to learn. Her lip curled upward slightly as the German and Latin lessons came back into her mind. As much as she wanted to keep this thing professional, like she imagined a pair of future Starfleet officers thrust together for a business deal of sorts should, she determined she'd at least make this easier and, hopefully, more enjoyable for Pavel Chekov than the nuns had made it for her.

So, as soon as she got back from reassuring Jim that all was forgiven, she'd go back over her logs and figure out what she was going to do with this new assignment. She guessed that Pike wanted them to get started as soon as possible, which probably meant tomorrow. This cadet had some homework to do.

Still, this was better than losing her spot on the _Enterprise_ for certain. Karina allowed herself a tiny smile. A snag, yes, but not one that she couldn't get past with minimal pain. Heck, it may even be fun. A new experience, for sure. Her present and future were pretty secure at this point.

But her past was still in question. The miniscule smile gave way to a miniature furrow in her brow. If what Jim had said in the clinic was true… Why had the nuns lied to her? What was wrong with telling her that her father had singlehandedly stopped a war and been killed for his efforts? She almost preferred that version of the story.

Which raised another question: Were the ones responsible for her parents' death still at large? She'd have to ask Jim –

Karina was caught off guard when she clipped the shoulder of someone hurrying past her. Looking after him, she frowned. Why was it that the ones she ran into always felt familiar somehow, as if she'd only been running into one person her entire time in Starfleet? Shaking the idea off, she laughed at herself. That was ridiculous, right? And probably statistically impossible.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: In which Camille injures herself - again - and has some philosophical thoughts about adventure, Karina has a bit of a run-in with our favorite...Vulcan (sorry to those of you who thought I was going to say Russian), and Bones is a precious, flustered human being, among other things.**

 **I kind of like this new "in which..." thing. Can you guys tell? :) Also, I love reviews! Seriously, if y'all like it, tell me! On that note, shout out to Welcome to the New and Howling2themoon, my two most regular reviewers! You guys make me happy!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Camille lovingly patted the detonator, Juliet Harper looking on and shaking her head. Cam glanced up at her friend who stood above her, Camille's kneeling position making her even shorter than Juliet's five-foot-nine-inch height. Rising, she straightened, but still couldn't even come close to within six inches of her friend.

"What's with the look?" Cam asked, and Juliet shrugged.

"Just wondering why I haven't received a save the date yet. With the way you were looking at that thing," she said.

Camille laughed and climbed up on the railing next to them. The two girls stood on a balcony overlooking the rest of the weaponry and engineering lab. It wasn't too high of a balcony, but just high enough that Camille got a thrill from sitting on the edge.

Juliet didn't choose to join her in sitting, but rather leaned up against the railing and glanced out over the other cadets milling about below them, going about their business.

"Not much exciting's happened since January, has it?" she asked, a touch of longing in her voice.

Camille scoffed. "If you call nearly getting killed exciting," she muttered.

Juliet gave her a look. "Now you just sound like Bones," she replied. "The Camille I know would have totally agreed with that statement. I think you did find it just as exciting as I did."

Camille thought on the matter, readjusting herself on the rail. It was a bit farther out over the floor below than was normally safe, but then again, Juliet had a point. She was right, Cam did agree with that statement. Excitement, near-death situations, that was why she had joined Starfleet. Of course, only near death. Not actually dying, preferably. A good, long life was on her to-do list, though there was no guarantee of that in the job description.

Suddenly, she felt her hold on the rail loosening. Camille tried desperately to maintain her balance, but the slippery fabric of her red skirt did nothing to help, and she found herself falling through the air.

"Born to fly" was not a term she would have used to describe herself in this particular instance. Landing hard ten feet below, she felt a pain in her wrist. Captain Richards hurried up to her, shaking his head.

"It's been eight months, Osbourne," he said. "I was beginning to think you'd up and amended your ways."

She grimaced in pain, cradling her left arm in her right. "Well, Captain," she said, "once a walking disaster, always a walking disaster, I guess."

He held his hand out. "Let me see that wrist." After examining it thoroughly and gently probing in areas the spasms of pain shooting up her arm made Camille wish that he hadn't, he pronounced, "Better head down to the med office, Cadet."

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

Jim sauntered up to her. "You planned that, didn't you, young woman?"

Camille gave him her best "mom look."

"I am a whopping five years younger than you, Jim," she said. "Call me 'young woman' again, and you'll be singing soprano for a week."

Giving the involuntary wince most men produced when she delivered that threat, he nodded. "Okay, okay, you win. But I still say you did that on purpose."

"Why on earth would I break my wrist on purpose?"

Jim flashed her a glimpse of those pearly whites. It really wasn't fair, how perfectly white his teeth were. "Gives you an opportunity to take time out of your day and visit with our friend the good doctor, doesn't it?" he asked, and then waltzed off before she even had a chance to argue.

Camille smiled to herself. Well, she wasn't going to complain about that part, that was for sure. There were _some_ perks to being a walking disaster.

And just then, she found herself really looking forward to an impromptu rendezvous with Bones. It might take her mind off of her uncharacteristic response to Juliet's question. Because deep down, she really wasn't sure she wanted more of what Juliet called "excitement."

Speaking of her friend, she glanced up at the balcony and caught her waving down at her. Affecting what she knew would be an intimidating glare, Camille called up, "No excitement, huh?"

Juliet was unfazed. "Hey, I told you it wasn't like you to be so cynical about adventure. It would appear the universe agrees with me."

Camille grinned and headed for the door. It was going to be great to have some time with Bones. They hadn't hung out, just the pair of them, since they'd gotten back to the Academy. In fact, she'd been hoping for just this when she'd walked in on Jim and Bones' conversation about Karina's dad.

She frowned. Sometime, eventually, she'd need to call the nuns. She didn't care if Karina didn't think she had time to look into it. The kid needed to know her past, and Camille was determined she would.

* * *

"Cadet Bartowski," the instructor called from the front of the room. "May I speak with you for a moment?"

Karina lifted her eyes from the assignment in front of her – translating Vulcan, Romulan, and Orion transmissions into English – to look at her instructor. Commander Spock exuded intimidation in the classroom. Karina took a deep breath and stood, walking to where he stood.

Spock was full Vulcan in appearance, but for the one thing that gave him away – his human eyes. Their depths seemed to envelop Karina in the darkness of space every time she caught herself looking. Not that she was attracted to her instructor. Far from it, but there was something about Spock that innately drew her to him. Karina felt that, if not now, one day, she and the half-Vulcan commander might share a kinship. It wasn't a feeling she relished, however. The only kind of kinship they could share would come from a shared pain.

Because half the time she just wanted to rip the man's head off.

He was facing away from the rest of the class. Eyeing her out of his peripherals, he said, "As first officer on the _USS Enterprise_ , Captain Pike has seen fit to inform me of this deal he has struck with you. I have advised him against it, as I intend to advise you now."

Karina lifted her head slightly. When talking to senior officers, she tended to lower her face a tad in submission, but there was nothing submissive about what she was feeling. And Spock seemed to be able to see right through her. Already after a week of being back, he'd lectured her on the downfalls of emotion and the merits of logic. Why he was so concerned about her thought process and emotional tendencies, she had no idea.

As it was, her lifted face practically screamed defiance, she knew. It would bother Spock, certainly. Here she was, sassing an instructor. Sister Rebecca, her primary caretaker back in the abbey, would faint, and Jim's uniform would be bursting its buttons right about now. She stared him right in those human eyes and tried to probe for Spock's earthling side.

"As an instructor in xenolinguistics for the past three years, I would remind you of the foolhardiness of this venture," Spock told her, and any hope she had that he even had a drop of human blood in him flew out the window, along with her intention of ending this conversation before it started. "You, with your vast knowledge of language, should know how difficult it is to learn a new language. A year or so will not be nearly enough for fluency, which is what the Captain requires."

"With all due respect, Commander," Karina reined in the sass evident in her tone, then continued. "I don't understand why this is so important to you. Why does it matter to you whether I try my hardest to get on the _Enterprise_ or not?"

Spock looked briefly uncomfortable. "I am merely attempting to advise you on the most logical option, Cadet. Which would be to simply select another vessel to serve on. Why should it matter to you which ship you are assigned to?"

Karina, instead of showing her discomfort as Spock did, set her jaw and stared him square in the face. Where this defiance was coming from, she wasn't quite sure. But it felt _good_ , immensely satisfying.

"I would like to remind you, Commander," she began, her voice low, "that I helped stop an invasion earlier this year. If not for my friends and I, this Academy would probably be a hole in the ground. I believe that gives me just as much right to choose my assigned vessel as someone whose only accomplishment is to be top of the class."

His human eyes hardened at the last comment, and she allowed her jaw to slacken a little. Had she gone too far this time? Why did she ever open her mouth, for goodness' sake?

The tone sounded, indicating the end of the hour and the class. Spock appeared to come to himself, and once again all trace of emotion cleared from his face.

"Dismissed, Cadet," he said, and she stalked back to her desk, her heart rate elevated and her steps quicker than usual. Gathering her things, she glanced at her written-out schedule. Just two more classes. After that, she had a half hour to get her teaching materials ready.

How dare that stuffy, egotistical Vulcan try to talk her out of this? Her mind was made up, and nothing would change it. That position on the bridge of the _Enterprise_ was hers. No way would she let herself be separated from Jim, Camille and Bones. After the painful reminder she'd received of the first time she'd lost a family, she wasn't about to let this one slip out of her grasp.

Trying harder to walk out of here with some grace, not let her gait show her annoyance, she shot a silent retort back at Spock.

 _You think I can't do this? Challenge accepted, Commander._

* * *

"I was beginning to wonder when I'd see another injury off you," Bones said as soon as he clapped eyes on Camille in the doorway, cradling her wounded wrist.

"I don't think it's as bad as – " Camille began.

Bones shook his head, which surprisingly had the power in and of itself to snap her mouth shut like a crocodile on a zebra. Holding his hand out and motioning with his fingers, he pulled her into the clinic like a magnet, and she didn't dare resist. It was kind of mesmerizing. But Camille prided herself on keeping a cool head, and she pushed the thoughts away as she placed her wrist in his hand.

Bones eyes widened.

"Woman," he said, looking up at her. "What did your wrist ever do to you? Or, more importantly, what did you do to _it_?"

Camille looked sheepish. "Would you believe I fell off that railing in the lab on the balcony?"

"What were you doing on the railing, out of curiosity?"

"Well, there was no place else to sit, Bones. What choice did I have?" She smirked, knowing her answer, and lack of regard for safety, would press his buttons. He groaned and rolled his eyes to the sky.

"I believe it," he said. "I believe it far too easily. Dammit, woman! You're going to kill yourself someday. You'd think you'd have more regard for your own life after…" He trailed off, afraid he'd offended her. Trying to keep up a brave face, he went to the cabinet and collected the necessary tools for setting her wrist. But he couldn't hide much from Camille. Standing with his back to her, he set the equipment on the counter and remained still for a long while, bracing himself against the metal surface.

Camille debated going over to where he was, then stopped herself. She needed to keep her wrist supported, and if she was next to him, she would feel compelled to touch him in some way, some comforting way. No, here she'd stay. But she was utterly confused.

"Bones, what's wrong?" she said. "You didn't offend me, not at all. But that can't be all that's on your mind. Tell me."

When he didn't respond, not in the slightest twitch of his shoulders, she added plaintively, " _Please_."

Bones shook his head and turned around, his professional manner back. "Never mind. It's complicated. Let's get back to the matter at hand."

Camille narrowed her eyes. "Leonard Horatio McCoy, don't try to pull that 'it's complicated' crap on me. I'm not leaving this clinic until you've told me what's – "

Bones nearly dropped the sutures.

"How did you find out – what – HOW DID YOU KNOW MY MIDDLE NAME IS HORATIO, WOMAN?" he demanded.

Camille smiled, far too pleased with herself. "When we were in Pike's office back in January, I sneaked a look at your file. I've been waiting for the proper time to utilize this knowledge."

Bones stared at her, utterly speechless. She loved rendering him to a stuttering schoolboy. It contrasted rather nicely with the usually confident, snarky exterior he presented. Camille liked to think she was the only one who could bring it out in him. This, this right here, was what hid under Leonard McCoy's hard shell.

And she adored it. Come on, it wasn't that often she could call Bones adorable. And she was okay with that. Some girls were into adorable. Not Camille. She preferred the confident snark. Much more entertaining, at least to her, but they were also the most fun to bring down to this level. He _did_ look pretty adorable right now, trying to formulate the words that wouldn't quite come out.

Finally, after a long time absent, his deep, Southern voice permeated the room again.

"You – you've known this entire time?" he asked. "For the past eight months?"

Cam brought the smirk back. "Affirmative, Doctor," she said. Holding out her injured wrist, she continued, "Now…back to business, if you please, sir?"

Bones, still dumbfounded, set her wrist in general silence. As soon as the process was over, he stepped back as though to give her room to step down. She didn't, however. She'd be staying until another patient came in. She was injured. Excuse enough to take the rest of the day off, right?

Leaning against the counter, Bones folded his arms across his chest and stared at the linoleum floor for a few moments. Then he raised his storm-cloud gray eyes to hers.

"Camille," he said, "if you breathe a word of that to Jim, I will bribe Karina into letting me into your room while you sleep and inject you with a dose of anesthesia right before a final."

She raised an eyebrow. "Kari's way more scared of me than she is you, Bones."

"I didn't say threaten her," Bones said. "I said bribe her."

Running with the opportunity to have a sass battle, Camille shot back, "Because the Southern gentleman would never threaten a lady, naturally. Am I right?"

He laughed. "You think you're so clever, don't you, Cam?"

"I _am_ so clever!" she gasped, putting a hand over her heart and faking offense. "Anyway, what would you bribe her with that would get her to risk a pounding?"

Bones snorted.

"Thanks to you, I'm pretty sure that kid can hold her own. And if I told you that, you'd have power over me. And her. No thanks, I'll keep my ally." Bones' expression turned a bit more serious. "How is she doing, by the way?"

Cam shrugged. "Better than she was originally, I suppose. She wants to get to the bottom of this. Find out how her parents really died, and who killed them. But she insists she doesn't have time for such an investigation. I think I'm going to call the abbey for her. Just see what the nuns know."

Bones frowned. "Are you sure that's wise?"

"Worth a shot. I mean, I don't expect them to give out personal information to someone they've never even met and who bears no relation to the ward whatsoever, but still – "

"No, Cam, you're missing my point," Bones said, holding up a hand to stop her. Once again, her mouth snapped shut like a trapdoor, and she bit back irritation at herself. What was wrong with her?

"Do you think Karina will appreciate your…interfering?" Bones asked. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he winced. Bad choice. Bad choice. Awful choice of words. Camille stared at him for a moment, her hazel eyes looking almost blue. But it had nothing to do with the lighting. It had everything to do with the fact that she looked ready to shoot daggers through his skull.

"Interfering?" she asked, rising up off the table.

Bones attempted changing the subject. Since when had this woman struck such fear into his heart with her anger?

"Isn't it about time we got a cast on that break?" he asked, nonchalantly whirling to fetch the necessary materials.

Camille grabbed his shoulder tightly in her right hand and spun him back around. For such a tiny thing, she sure had strength.

If he hadn't been so worried about what was about to come out of her mouth, he might have found it comical how she was obviously coming down off of tiptoes, having to stretch up to reach his shoulder. But at the moment, he was bracing himself for a tongue lashing, and the concept of humor was beyond him.

"Interfering?" she demanded. "Is that what you really think - ?"

"CAM!" Bones exclaimed, seized by a sudden impulse and grabbing her by the shoulders. Both of them experienced odd sensations as soon as he made contact. Bones felt electricity shoot through his fingers, up his arm and into his chest, Camille felt a fluttering sensation in her stomach.

Shocked that he was still standing, Bones continued, "I'm just saying, she may not really want to know right now. In that case, wouldn't it be better if you just stayed out of things?"

Seeing his logic but still refusing to believe it, Camille shook her head. "No, she really wants to know." When he gave her a look, she glared. "I've lived with her for a year, cowboy. I think I can read Kari's emotions. Her desires. She wants to know, more than anything. Quite frankly, she needs to."

She sensed their argument was over and held out her wrist. "Now, why don't we get a cast on this thing before I injure it any further?"

Bones narrowed his eyes. "Didn't I just say that a few minutes ago, woman?"

Shaking her head, Camille smiled and walked back to the table, pushing herself up with her uninjured side. "Did you? I didn't hear."

His exasperated groan only added fuel to her fire. This visit was proving to be just as interesting as all of her others, and only promised to get more so. Good. Cam needed a good sass-off with Bones to take her mind off the monotony that had settled into her everyday life since January. Not that she was complaining about the lung condition going away. Far from it. But it had at least kept her on her toes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: In which we meet our favorite Russian (finally - did I say that out loud?), Karina has some slight internal conflict, Camille is a gem, and there's a lot more cryptic plot devices!**

 **Note: So, in further installments, I will be writing Chekov's accent phonetically. I know y'all could probably fill it in automatically without any assistance, but for one thing, it was fun for me, and for another, I wanted to specify the difference between when he's speaking Standard and when he's speaking Russian. So, for future reference: No accent = Russian, accent = Standard.**

 **I own nothing but my OCs. Star Trek is the property of its rightful owner, as are the characters.**

 _That…_ was not exactly what Chekov had expected.

When Captain Pike had recommended these lessons, the last person he'd expected to show up and introduce herself as his instructor had been the girl who never looked where she was going. But here she was.

 _Breathe_ , he reminded himself. _Breathing is a good idea_.

So, that was her name then. Karina Bartowski. He sounded it out in his mind. Karina. Karina. Karina. Ka –

"I'm going to make a wild guess here and say you're Pavel?" she said. He snapped out of it only to find her standing right in front of him, where he could have sworn she'd just entered the room only a second before.

Gesturing around the room, she said, "I mean, what with all the other people I could choose from in here."

Other than the pair of them, the xenolinguistics classroom was completely empty. Pike had cleared them to utilize it as much as necessary, a privilege not granted to all.

He nodded. " _Da_."

She sat down across from him, heaving the bag dangling at her side up on the table. If everything in that thing was for today alone, he would consider feeling slightly intimidated. She didn't mess around, this one.

She looked like she was trying to recover from shock of some kind, or play it cool, or something like that. Either way, something was bothering her. He wanted to ask what it was, but figured such a question from someone she just met might only serve to freak her out more.

Behind her eyes, something flickered, as though she was shaking something off and she held her hand out. "Well, it's good to meet you, Pavel. I'm Karina."

He reached and shook her proffered hand. Attempting to form some kind of reply, the only thing that came out was, "Karina… that's a Russian name, isn't it?"

Oy. Why was he so caught up on her name?

Giving him a quizzical look but at least kind of smiling, she said after a moment, "I guess it is. It's some kind of Slavic, anyways. So, shall we get started?"

As she pulled a huge stack of paper out of her bag and started going through them, Chekov took the opportunity, what with her not looking, to study her – again. She never gave him a second look whenever she ran into him, which was a lot more frequently than should have been normal, but he'd gotten a good look at her a time or two.

She was short, definitely. He was sixteen, almost seventeen, so he probably wasn't quite finished growing, but he guessed her to be at least five inches shorter than him, if not more. Female cadets were required to wear their hair back when in class or at an assembly, but these were off-hours, and brown hair exactly a shade darker than his own was cascading over her shoulders, getting in her face and preventing him from getting a good look at that.

But he remembered her eyes from the last time they'd ran into each other, quite literally. No further study was needed there for him to recall their brown depths.

 _Snap out of it, Pavel_ , he told himself.

"Okay," Karina said, looking back up at him. He tried to appear as though he hadn't been staring, but knew he probably wasn't the most convincing of actors. And she did, in fact, frown just a bit before going on. "So, you're in the same boat I'm in here, right? Pike wants us on his crew. Slight obstacles stand in our way."

"I think the language barrier is more than a _slight_ obstacle here," he muttered.

"Not the way I see it," she responded immediately, and he eyed her, impressed. Most people who spoke Russian but not as their first language found it hard to understand when he wasn't speaking up, but she'd picked up on every word. This girl really was as good as Captain Pike had said.

"I think we can do this in a year if need be," Karina said. "Most people taking foreign language classes learn over the course of four years or so before they're fluent. Which is why this is going to be really intense. I'm thinking we can take what most people learn in a year and compress it into three months. And so on, throughout the year." Smiling a little, she asked, "You scared of me yet?"

 _Slightly_ , he thought.

" _Nyet_ ," he said. "Keep going."

"That's about it, really," she said. "Although I'm warning you: Standard is a tricky one to learn. Even for those of us who speak it as a first language. Most other languages are pretty cut and dry. Not Standard It's actually kind of awful. You will probably hate me at least twice during the course of this for what I make you do for homework while you still have things for normal class to get done. I'm fully prepared for that. I'm a tough girl."

She passed him a sheet of paper. Looking at it and breathing a sigh of relief at the familiar Russian writing covering most of it, he squinted just slightly when he attempted to read the English.

"So, now that I've given you the necessary 'this is going to be awful' speech," Karina said, humor lacing her voice, "let's get started."

He nodded, and she looked down at her paper, which he assumed was a copy of what he held in his hand. "Basic pronunciation. That's what we're starting with here." Frowning, she paused and looked up at him. "Out of curiosity…how did you manage to get accepted into Starfleet without being able to speak Standard?"

Feeling a fair amount of pride and yet knowing that he was probably turning red, Chekov half-grinned ruefully. "Universal translator," he said. "I've been hiding one under my uniform all year."

Karina' jaw dropped. "How did you get one of _those_?" Then, shaking her head, she said, "Sorry. Not important. So, how did you get caught?"

Chekov winced. He wasn't sure he'd use that particular word choice, even though that was essentially what it had been. "Captain Pike called me in our first day back to personally request my assignment to the _Enterprise._ Of course, the translator only chose _then_ to start malfunctioning. So there I am, with no idea what he's saying and absolutely no clue how to respond."

Karina took that in, nodded. "So, here we are because Pike's a man willing to cut deals?"

"Essentially."

She shrugged. "Works for me. So, where were we?"

"Basic pronunciation."

"Right. So, back to business…"

* * *

The door slid shut behind her, and Karina leaned up against it, dropping her bag and attempting to pull in a few normal breaths.

Unfortunately, the universe seemed to be against her right now.

The last person she'd expected to see when she'd opened the door and walked into the classroom was the boy from the first day back. The one she'd crashed into less than delicately. She should have figured she'd eventually _figuratively_ run into at least one of the people she'd _literally_ run into, but of all of them, why did it have to be _that_ one?

Fortunately, she'd fairly successfully played off the awkward. She was fairly certain Pavel didn't suspect a thing. Heck, the guy probably didn't even remember her. It was one insignificant little incident.

Her mind flashed back to that first day. She'd fangirled to Camille a little bit when they got back to their room, and of course Cam had run with it, getting way more excited than she should have. Where was Cam now? She _had_ to hear this one –

Wait. What was she thinking? No, no, no. Camille couldn't possibly know about this. It was an awful idea on so many levels! She'd start seeing something when there was nothing there to see!

Karina kicked the bag under her desk and flopped down on her bed. Sure, the guy was cute. But she wasn't interested in any… _thing_ , whatever "thing" might be defined as, for at least a few years. Plus, this was a business deal, between the pair of them and Captain Pike. She couldn't let silly, normal teenage stuff get in the way. Which Camille seemed determined to place squarely in her path.

If Cam was informed of this new development, Karina would never hear the end of it. And it would be easier for her to focus on the task at hand if she were to not hear none-too-subtle hints on a regular basis.

Nope. This was business, nothing more.

Karina thought back over their lesson. She'd actually enjoyed it, despite the monotonous beginner's work they'd been doing. Pavel was just as sharp as Captain Pike had told her. She liked the guy. Once they'd gotten past her "the Standard language is a monster that will suck all happiness from your soul" speech, he'd loosened up a lot. And it wasn't just his face that was cute. He was pretty adorable, as well.

If Cam could hear her thoughts, oh, the connotations she'd put to them. Karina buried her face in her pillow and yelled in frustration. It was like she had a little Camille on her shoulder all the time, forcing her to question her own thoughts. Why did this have to be so complicated, just because she was a girl, and he was…well, not?

"You know, I've heard things about Russians being pretty tough, but I didn't think it would be _that_ bad," came Camille's voice from the doorway. Karina shot straight up off the bed.

"Cam," she said. "You freaked me out for a few seconds there…" Karina's voice trailed off as her gaze dropped to Camille's casted wrist. "What did you do _this_ time?"

"You know, I'm kind of tired of telling people this story," Camille muttered, dropping her stuff on her desk, which was cluttered beyond belief. Not that Karina was one to judge. Hers was just as bad. Flopping down on her bed just as Karina had done moments before, Cam added, "Let's hear about your day, and _maybe_ I'll consider telling you about the idiot move that caused this. So, how was it? Your student a monster or something?"

Karina pondered how she could keep this completely gender neutral.

"Nah," she said. "Not at all, actually. Of course, this is just the first lesson. I could be getting a wolf in sheep's clothing for all I know."

Cam nodded. "So what was with that little outburst into the pillow? What did it ever do to you?"

Karina shrugged. "Other stuff, I guess."

Cam sat up, looking like she was about to say something she knew Karina wouldn't appreciate. Karina stiffened, bracing herself.

"So, Kari," she began. "I'm pretty sure you're going to hate me for bringing it up again, but…"

Karina groaned inwardly. Here we go…

"I really think you need to look into what happened with your parents," Camille said. "You know it's going to drive you insane until you find out."

"Cam, that was eleven years ago. I think whatever happened is in the past and no matter what, needs to stay there."

Camille eyed her with a shrewd gaze. "Karina Louise," she said. "Don't you pull that on me. You are seriously the most curious person I've met. This is still niggling at you, isn't it?"

Karina pursed her lips, trying to come up with a decent comeback. Finally, she gave up.

"You win. I can't stand this not knowing much longer. But once again, Cam, I have no time. I'm not just a student. I'm also teaching now."

"One person," Camille retorted.

"Still! It's no small task, trying to cram what would normally take four years into one," Karina snapped. "Please stop bugging me about this. I just can't do it right now. Maybe a few years down the road, but not now."

Camille was silent for a few minutes. Then,

"I could do it for you."

Karina narrowed her eyes. "Come again?"

"You heard me, Kari. I'll do it for you. I'll call the nuns. I'll search the archives. Whatever you need me to do. Like I said, you've gotta know your past, kid. And if it's your parents, it's you, too. How did your parents really die? Who was your dad? How was he involved with Starfleet? How did you survive that bomb, if that was the real story? And if so, who killed them? I'll find out, Kari. Just give me permission."

Karina sat down next to Camille. "That's a bit of a commitment," she said. "Are you sure _you_ have enough time?"

"Well, I'm still just a student," Cam retorted. "I have nothing occupying my time in the evenings. Hey, I'll get Jim to help. Maybe he can make this his report, rather than just a boring old write-up."

Karina threw her arms around her friend. "You, Camille Osbourne, are an angel."

Camille snorted and returned the embrace. "Yeah, right, honey. I may be a gem but I ain't no angel. Now, incidentally, they're showing a movie in the assembly hall tonight. Sort of a 'congratulations, you've survived your first week back' thing. I vote we haul on some pajamas, pop some popcorn, and grab a couple of cartons of Ben and Jerry's before we head down. What do you say?"

Karina smiled, jumping up off the bed. "Dibs on the bathroom!" she cried, running to it before Cam could even react.

"I'll get the popcorn ready while you're in there," Camille called from behind the closed door.

Karina breathed a sigh of relief. Well, that had gone over well. Hopefully from that point on, Camille would be perfectly satisfied just to know that the lessons were going well and wouldn't dig for details. But knowing Cam…

…that situation was unlikely.

* * *

The phone started vibrating so violently the whole desk shook. The hacker uttered a curse of frustration, stared for a few moments at the time slowly running down on his opportunity to get the code figured out, and finally picked up the phone. Normally he wouldn't answer the phone while on the job, but this was the boss. No sense in angering this one, that's for sure.

"Have you found anything yet?" The voice on the other end of the phone was controlled, suave, and had beguiled many a man – or woman – into doing exactly what its owner required of them. The hacker shuddered. Any answer he gave would just inch him to getting him on this man's bad side, a place he'd sworn vehemently never to go.

Resigned, he knew getting it over with was the best option here and said, "Sorry, boss. I got nothing for you. Starfleet is practically under, well, virtually speaking, chains. And we're talking layers upon layers of – "

"Spare me the details," the voice spat, showing its other form, snarling and savage. This was the form that had struck fear into those who managed to see through his charisma. Only a rare few struggled through the fear without complying.

"I want him found, and now," the boss growled. "Now get on it, or you'll be wishing you had never agreed to work for me all those years ago. Was that quite clear, or shall I say it louder and slower the better to get it through your thick head?"

Swallowing but not denying his slight irritation, he replied, "Yes, boss. I'm on it."

"Good. Call me when you find something."

The hacker moved his swivel chair from the computer he'd been working on to his backup console. One would think hacking would have gotten easier in the past two hundred years, but on the contrary, it was practically impossible to hack into these advanced systems. At least, with anything similar.

Fortunately, he'd found another option.

One had to be of genius proportions to break into anything with a new system, and he wasn't quite there. Above average, definitely, but not genius. So he'd picked up a few antique consoles from a pawn shop down the street, managed to get them working again, and used them to hack into the more advanced computer systems. Most hackers would scoff at the idea, claiming the antiques were so out of date there was no way they could possibly best the intellect of artificial intelligence. But in fact, they made hacking relatively simple. Not a lot of thinking involved. As a man of action, that was what he preferred.

A man of action who'd been kicked out of the military and was reduced to this.

Unfortunately, the process was also a lot slower. He never took more than two jobs at a time, so he didn't have to utilize his personal computer – a lot easier to trace. But he began to wonder about the safety of taking these particular two at the same time. He'd lost four hours of work because of the phone call, and they were hours he couldn't afford to lose. And now he had to work on his other job, leaving that one for even longer. It was unclear to him which of his employers he feared angering more.

It was going to be a long night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Eight: In which we find out some more about Bones, and Karina is frustrating - to both us and Chekov. (Don't get me wrong, I love the girl. But was I practically screaming at her as I wrote this chapter? Yes.) Actually, better way to sum it up: In which everyone is slightly immature - including the "mature" adults. Yay! Oh, also, more vagueness about the past. As always. :)**

 **Please review!**

 **Disclaimer: I owneth not: Star Trek and our beloved Dr. McCoy, the soon-to-be Captain Kirk, or Mr. Chekov. Only Camille and Karina belong to me.**

* * *

"How much longer do I have to wear this thing?" Camille asked. Growled was more like it, actually. Bones swallowed the trepidation that only this woman could bring out in him and gave her what she called his "doctor face." Apparently the overall impression it gave was, _I am in charge here and no one can question that. If you do, I will use some of these fine tools just lying about this room on you. Got that?_

"You have to wear it," he replied, "until I say so. Now let me see."

Camille rolled her eyes and held her wrist out.

"It makes working more effort than it's worth," she complained. " _And_ it's starting to smell. Kari walked in yesterday and thought we had something rotting in our fridge."

"Mmm-hmm," Bones replied, trying to appear concentrated on his task at hand. Noticing no such smell, he asked, "And did you, pray tell?"

Camille looked sheepish. "Well, yeah."

Bones nodded, saying, "I'm not entirely surprised. With that pigsty of a room you two keep, I'm not shocked."

"Did you just call my room a pigsty?" Camille snapped, her voice dangerous.

Taken aback, Bones frowned and removed his hands, holding them up and stepping back. "Rough day, was it?" he asked, everything he was thinking evident in his tone.

She sighed and closed her eyes, regretting her outburst. Or two. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just…I've tried calling the abbey and getting ahold of the nuns at least five times today. Each time their secretary just says, 'The sisters are not authorized to give out personal information for their wards, former or present. Thank you for your call.' And then the woman hangs up on me! I thought nuns were supposed to be benevolent. And helpful. I mean, they were in _The Sound of Music_."

Bones raised a brow and went back to his examination. "Well, there's always one bad spot in every establishment on earth. Every corporation, every occupation, every person. We all have our blemishes."

He felt her eyes on him, and did not enjoy the sparks it sent through his being when she asked, "And what about me, cowboy? What's my bad spot?"

He attempted to formulate an answer, but, as usual, the woman's suddenly gentle prising had turned his tongue – and evidently his brain – to mush. When the door opened, he thought he was saved from answering, but bit back a groan when he saw it was Jim.

"Jim," Camille said, and Bones detected a trace of something in her voice. Was it relief? Why would she be relieved at the sight of Jim? Did he make her uncomfortable or something? _Pull it together, McCoy!_

"Hey," Jim greeted her, then turned to Bones. He frowned. "You feeling okay, Bones? You look like you're about to lose your lunch all over Cam's lap."

"Lovely image," Camille muttered. "If he's right, would you kindly face the other way, doctor?"

"Dammit, I'm not sick," Bones growled. "And as Cam just so aptly put it, I'm the doctor here, Jim. Yet with the amount you've been inquiring after my health lately, you'd think you were the one with medical expertise."

Jim shrugged and took a seat in a chair, straddling its back. "Hey, just checking. Last I looked, that was what friends do." He turned to Camille. "What put the burr under the cowboy's saddle this time?"

Bones shot him a look. "Call me 'cowboy' again, Jim – "

"What? It's okay for Cam to do it but not me?"

Camille was smiling for some odd reason. Did she find Jim cute or something? Yes, that was it. That had to be it. Bones turned to face Jim, folding his arms across his chest. Not even he could understand what he was doing. If he didn't know better, he'd say he was guarding his territory, but that was, of course, ridiculous.

"Seriously, what happened to you?" Jim asked. Bones got the distinct feeling Jim wasn't talking about just today, but the past few weeks as well. Dammit. He'd noticed.

"Bones here just informed me of his belief that everyone has some blemishes somewhere," Camille said. "I was just asking what he thought mine were. I think I caught him off guard."

Jim snorted. "Well, for one thing, you can't cook."

Camille fake glared at him. "Hey, I can make some mean popcorn, buddy. Seriously, guys, I'm actually curious. I wouldn't mind working on some of these things. What would you say is my biggest flaw?"

"Just one?" Jim asked. Bones shot him a glare and Cam's fake one became real in a flash. Jim cleared his throat and added, "Bones first, then?"

Bones stared at Camille, as though taking her face in and memorizing it would give him inspiration. It wasn't working. It was just convincing him more and more that she had no flaws. That was unsafe thinking here. He let his eyes drift toward the wall, then brought them back to Camille. He figured when he delivered a blow he might as well look her in the eyes.

"You can be a little rude sometimes," he said. She nodded, taking that rather well.

Jim, however, wasn't about to let this go without adding in his two cents. "You're also prone to bad language."

Cam and Bones both swiveled to look at him. Cam said, her voice baring just the slightest trace of incredulousness, "Like you aren't?"

"Hey, I don't cuss around kids, at least!"

"So I'm not a kid, then?" came a new voice from the door, and Karina joined them, pulling a chair up next to Jim.

"Not a little kid, anyway," Jim amended. "What about you, Kar? You room with her. What do you think of Cam?"

"Seriously?" Karina asked, eyes wide.

Bones nodded. "Flaws. List them."

After thinking for a few minutes, she said, "You use insults quite a bit when we're pretending to argue. And actually arguing, now that I think on the matter."

Camille was looking less and less like she wanted to hear their opinion, but she muttered through her teeth, "Go on."

Bones was starting to feel genuinely concerned for not only his health but Jim's and Karina's, as well. Even so, he continued. Hey, she'd asked. "You're damn difficult to understand at times, woman."

"Isn't that just women in general, Bones?" Jim quipped.

Karina smacked the back of his head. "Watch it, mister."

Rubbing the sore spot, Jim added, "You can also play devil's advocate in a lot of situations, Cam."

Camille threw her hands up in the air. "Name one instance."

Karina put in, "Every single time I come to you venting about a decision I need to make. Every. Single. Time, Cam. Oh, I have one. Sometimes you use your strengths the wrong way."

Camille's mouth was set in a tight line. "Example please, kiddo."

"Well, you have this incredible fighting spirit," Karina explained, seemingly not scared at all. "But you don't tend to channel it the right way. It's either arguing with Bones and Jim or, I don't know, injuring yourself on a regular basis and recovering quicker than anyone thought you would. There's other ways you can let out your anger, Cam. Like teaching me self-defense, that was a good one. Or putting it into work or something."

"Or firing on an attacking vessel when you get assigned to a ship," Jim offered.

Camille nodded. "See, that one I actually find reasonable. That was good, Kari."

Bones stared at the young girl, who had faced Camille's wrath unflinchingly and come out on top. "How?" was all he could manage to ask, making helpless gestures with his arms from Camille to Karina and back.

Karina shrugged. "I've lived with her for a year, Bones. It's a survival instinct by now to not show fear."

"Okay then," Camille said. "Enough of the bashing on Camille session. I want to see," she leaned forward, her green-blue eyes reminiscent of the Mediterranean Sea nailing Bones with an ice cold stare, "what we all think of Dr. McCoy here."

Bones frowned, then, realizing what she intended, full on glared at her and gave a halting laugh. "Huh. That's entirely unnecessary."

"Nah," Jim said. "I'd be interested here, too. I'll go first."

"Dammit, Jim!" Bones said. "If I go, you're next."

"Seems a fair price. In fact, this is good. We're figuring out what irritates each of us about the other," Jim said.

"I'm sorry," Bones growled. "When did I sign up for these therapy sessions?"

Karina raised her hand. "I'm in," she said.

Bones rolled his eyes and leaned back against the counter, his arms folded across his chest and sending that glare around at all of them. "Fine. Go ahead, Jim. What's my biggest flaw?"

"Sometimes you refuse to take responsibility for things that you obviously have a hand in," Jim replied.

"Wow. Had that bullet in the chamber, didn't you?" Karina muttered.

"Oh, please! Like you're one to talk," Bones retorted. "I'm going to echo Camille here and say, example?"

Jim thought on it for a moment, then said, "Okay, your divorce. Actually, your marriage. You consistently act like the victim here, but you say she showed signs of being a psychopath before you were married, right? I understand the woman almost murdered you in your sleep, Bones, but you didn't have to marry her, you know. Actually, why did you? I'm curious."

Bones' face was set. "Now that, Jim, was not part of the equation. You have to justify your answer, not me. Especially if I don't agree with you."

"Um, question?" Karina, who had been growing steadily more uncomfortable during this part of the exchange, raised her hand tentatively. "Not that I didn't enjoy razzing Cam a little, but what is the point of this?"

Camille sighed. "Kid does have a point, I guess. I'm sorry I started this, Bones." She hopped down off the table. "Come on, Kar. Let's head back to the room."

The girls filed out. Jim rose to follow, somehow sensing he was no longer welcome, then he turned back. Bones wasn't even satisfied to see the grim look on his normally less-than-serious friend's face. What he didn't expect to hear were the words that came out of Jim's mouth.

"You know, I am sorry that I put it the way I did, Bones. I didn't have to be so blasé about it, I guess. But I'm not sorry I said it. I want to know…did you know she was psychotic before you married her?" Jim stayed in the doorway, but Bones had put up an unreadable mask. Jim shook his head in frustration and made to leave again before Bones' voice made him pause again.

"She was pregnant, Jim."

Slowly turning about to look at Bones again, Jim wasn't shocked after the lack of emotion in the man's voice to see that similarly reflected in his expression. Complete unreadability. And that was almost freakier to Jim than an angry Bones. At least when Bones was angry, it was only a couple of steps up from his normally cranky demeanor.

"And was it yours?" Jim asked quietly.

Bones shook his head. "No," he said. "But, unlike the scumbag who knocked her up, I actually decided to do the right thing here."

Jim shrugged. "Sounds like she deserved it from what you've told me."

"No, not for her," Bones snapped, and Jim was instantly back in his comfort zone. "I did it for the kid, Jim. No child should have had to have just that woman raising him. I did the right thing for her baby. Not in a million years did I do it for her. Someone who didn't seem too choked up about me breaking things off with her wasn't worth my time to make an honest woman of, if that was what you were thinking."

Something wasn't quite adding up. "Wait," Jim said. "So you have a kid? How have I not heard about this? Where is he now?"

Bones' head dropped and he muttered, "She, Jim. It was a girl."

The silence after that comment told Jim everything he needed to know. He headed back for the door, sensing Bones was done with friendly company for the day.

* * *

When the girls' unlocked door slid open to reveal Jim standing there, the first thing Karina did was leap up off her bed and make an announcement to the room:

"I would like to just state that there will be no yelling, at anyone, over what happened back there," she said, fixing Jim and Camille with a glare that was getting close to being intimidating. The kid was learning a few things from Camille. Jim was almost impressed.

"Yeah, Jim may have been the one doing the talking, but Camille, you were the one who instigated turning the conversation around to Bones. From what it sounds like, Bones started the whole affair, and I went along with it without questioning it. Therefore, we all get 25% of the blame. And are therefore good," Karina concluded, sitting back down on the bed and turning to the book she'd discarded. "Now, Jim, should I get back to reading, or do you have something to say?"

Jim pulled her desk chair out and sat down in his typical backwards fashion. "You might want to listen to this one, Kari. It has to do with our investigation. I had a bit of a breakthrough trying to call the abbey today."

Both girls sat up a little bit straighter at that news. Karina asked, "You mean your investigation about my mom and dad?"

Jim gave her a look. "No, my investigation about whether Admiral Archer really is an avid hula dancer in his spare time. Yes, your parents, Kari."

She smirked. "Point taken. Stupid question. Go on."

"So, I was trying to get through to the nuns, right? Well, the secretary is, of course, giving me her normal shut-down speech. I tried flirting with her, but turns out she's a proselyte. Didn't take too kindly to my advances."

Karina giggled at that one. "I remember her. Yeah, she would have torn you apart were you actually face to face. Something about respecting her holy calling or other."

Jim scoffed. "Who said anything about face-to-face, Kari? The woman was tearing me to shreds over the phone. Anyway, she was in the middle of her tirade when suddenly I hear this voice on the other end and she goes silent. Then this older woman is on the phone with me, asking what business I have prank calling God's holy institution."

Karina nodded, grimacing. "The Reverend Mother. I apologize in advance."

"So, I explained to her that I wasn't prank calling, I was just investigating for a friend what circumstances had brought her to the abbey. But as soon as she heard your name, Kari, there was silence for about two minutes. I asked her if she was there a couple of times, but right before I hung up she told me I couldn't possibly know what I was dealing with and I needed to stop calling this number and abandon any search I was on."

Karina sat there, frowning. "But that makes no sense, Jim. Why would she…they never acted like I was different from the other wards…"

But her voice trailing off signaled to the others that she was uncertain of her answer. Her face was screaming thought, a million thoughts whirring past behind her eyes. Finally she sighed, turning to Camille.

"I'm going to admit it, I did think this was a bit of a crazy venture at first. Figured we wouldn't come up with anything. But you know what? You guys might have something here."

Cam shot her a look reminiscent of Jim's earlier one. "Might?"

Karina rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay. You do have something. But at the moment, once again, I really don't have time – "

"Kari," Jim said. "You're the only one they'll speak to, if they speak to anyone. You can't just ignore this, can you?"

A small smile crossed her face before dissipating just as quickly. She looked down at her hands lying in her lap. A few seconds passed, then she raised only her eyes to him and said, "You know, that's not the first time you've asked me that."

Jim smiled, remembering the same conversation they'd had last year, when she hadn't been sure whether to let the Romulan signal that foretold the end of Starfleet go or look further into it.

"Look how well that one worked out," he told her. "Miss Bridge-Position-on-the- _Enterprise_."

Karina's head fully snapped up at that one. She raised her index finger as though silencing him.

"Not for sure, James. So shush. And secondly, yeah, it went well. True, we all almost died in the process, but I guess we lived and Starfleet is still a thing." She was enjoying drawing out her verdict. She knew the other two wanted her to get involved in their quest to find the cause of her parents' death, and it was positively delightful to watch them anticipate her response. But, when she thought about it, she did truly want to find out the answer. Curiosity was her greatest attribute – and, admittedly, sometimes her biggest flaw. And this was her past.

So what held her back? In all honesty, she was scared. Terrified of what she might find out. But that hadn't stopped her last year. It wouldn't stop her now.

"I'm in. I'll call them just as soon as I find some time."

Jim glanced at her book. "What do you call now, Kari?"

She glared at him. "Jim. This, right here, is called studying. That's what people do when they actually care about getting promoted."

He tilted his head, affecting an innocent comment. "And yet, of the pair of us, which is currently a lieutenant and which is an ensign?"

She glared at him. "If you can't be nice, you can get out." A smile softened the comment. "And for the record, I'm only still an ensign because that's all I can technically be until I'm eighteen. You just have the benefit of years, old man."

Camille snorted. "Never thought you'd hear that at twenty-four, right, Jim?"

Jim stood slowly, pretending every inch upward pained his back. Pressing his hands into the small of his back and faking a stretch, he said in his best old man voice, "Well, kids, I better get to bed. These old bones aren't meant to be up this late."

"It's four in the afternoon, gramps," Camille said, throwing a crumpled up wad of paper at him. She'd been working on her lab report for the past hour or so, and had to constantly restart. None of it sounded right, and she was a bit of a perfectionist.

"I know," Jim called as the door began sliding shut. "It's way past this old-timer's bedtime."

Karina shook her head, laying the book aside and taking out her bag. Lately it had strictly been serving for her teaching escapades. She'd need to get another soon. Lugging her class books around was getting bothersome.

A week had passed since her first meeting with Pavel, and he was picking up the basics of the Standard language really quickly. Karina, however, was doing her best to keep this particular thing on a business level. If she allowed it to escalate to friendship, Camille would know. And the woman had just stopped bugging her about boys. It had been a welcome relief to not be smirked at every time they walked past a male even mildly in her age range.

Plus, this was the best way to get things done quickly and efficiently. Pike hadn't said to make friends with each other. That was not part of the equation.

Too bad, really, she thought. Under different circumstances, she thought they could have been pretty good friends. Jim, Bones, and Camille were great. They were her family. But Jim and Bones were both grown men, and while Camille was still a teenager too, she was nearing the end of that time, and a legal adult. And, quite frankly, there just weren't that many teenagers at Starfleet. It would have been nice to have a friend around her age.

"Hey, how's the teaching going?" Camille asked, snapping Karina out of it and reminding her of the task at hand – hiding certain details from her for as long as possible.

"Good," Karina replied.

"That's the most I get?"

"Uneventful," Karina said. As soon as Camille shrugged and turned away, she winced. Well, it wasn't _entirely_ untruthful.

* * *

Okay, something was definitely up with Karina. And for the life of him, Chekov couldn't figure out what it was. She'd been perfectly friendly for their first meeting, but after that, for the last two sessions, she'd been not exactly rude. Just kind of cold. Not that he wasn't used to cold. He was Russian, it was an occupational hazard, literally and figuratively. But this was a bit ridiculous.

Not the fact that she was holding him at arm's length. What was ridiculous was the fact that it bothered him so much.

Today, however, not only was she being overly businesslike, she also seemed slightly distracted. Finally, his impulse got the better of him.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, and she seemed to snap out of a trance.

"Huh?" she asked. It was a welcome relief to see her drop the façade of having it together and actually show some human nature.

"I asked, is something wrong?" Chekov repeated. "You've been distant the entire hour. That's not normally like you."

Her brow furrowed. "We've been meeting for a week. How is that sufficient enough time for you to know what's like me or not?"

Her short response caused him to retreat slightly. "Okay. Never mind, then."

Staring down at the paper in front of him, he heard a sigh coming from Karina and glanced back up at her.

Remorse was written all her face, and she rubbed her forehead as if in pain. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped like that. I just…have a lot on my mind today."

He set the paper aside and looked her in the eyes. "I'm a good listener. If you want to…"

She looked like she was about to wave his offer off, then something changed in her expression. Her shoulders slowly loosened, where he hadn't noticed they were tense before. He'd gotten so used to her profile, he guessed he'd just assumed that was how she carried herself. Now he wondered how he'd ever thought that. This was much more natural looking. Suddenly he found himself wanting to keep her from being so tense as much as possible.

She said, "So, I don't know if I told you this, but I'm an orphan. When I was four, my parents died in a car crash and I went to live at a convent. I was raised by nuns. At least, that's what I thought killed them up until last week."

Chekov kept the thought to himself that she really hadn't told him much about herself. He didn't actually even know how old she was. She hadn't asked him anything about himself, either. But then again, was that really shocking? Apparently she looked at their relationship as business only. Which wasn't exactly where he saw it going, but friendship needed to be a two-way street.

So what was he supposed to do here, keep whittling her down until she dropped the frigid exterior? Apparently, this was a good start if that was the answer.

"One of my friends was assigned this incident in Starfleet's history for his dissertation," she continued. "Turns out my dad was involved somehow. Starfleet was attacked by…" She paused, frowning for some unexplainable reason. "…Well, I guess it doesn't really matter who it was attacked by. They were just attacked. My dad helped stop it, I guess. According to Starfleet's records, my parents died in a house bombing not long after that. No one knows how I survived. Or how I got to the convent, for that matter. And we're getting nowhere with the nuns. They've turned down any information at least three times."

Karina moved her gaze from her hands in her lap back up to his face. She frowned. "Were you staring at me?"

He jumped, realizing it probably looked like he had been. And who was he kidding, it wasn't too far from the truth. Attempting to look casual, he said, " _Nyet_. Go on."

She sat back in her chair and sighed. "So if I seem distant, that's probably it." Shaking her head, she started to pack her bag up. "I'm sorry for unloading that on you. It's just something I need to deal with. I guess I wasn't the best teacher today."

Rising with her, Chekov frowned at her sudden attempt to turn this progress around. One second, Karina Bartowski was an open book, the next, an impenetrable wall went up around her. He guessed she'd never been called predictable in her life.

"I _was_ the one who asked, you know," he told her. When she remained completely focused on gathering her things, he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. Her head snapped up, and she looked from his eyes to his hand and back. His touch didn't appear unwelcome, just surprising. "If you ever want to unload things on me, feel free. I actually like it, unlike some people."

Karina nodded. "See you day after tomorrow, then?"

He smiled. "See you then."

The walls had descended again. He felt her eyes on him as he walked out. Breaking through her shell was proving to be a challenge. Maybe he'd be better off just leaving this particular endeavor alone. Why was it he had kept to himself this entire time in Starfleet, yet this girl made him actually want to make friends with someone?

Something she had said ate at him, however. Something about her parents' story… it sounded familiar. But how could it? He hadn't even known her for a month, and there was very little possibility he had any kind of connection with her past.

But as always, _his_ past left that in serious question. Especially with the manner of her parents' deaths.


	8. Chapter 8

**In which Camille plays responsible adult to Jim and Bones (because let's face it, she _is_ the adult when there's alcohol involved), Karina does some digging of her own, and we receive another visit to the mysterious hacker. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any of its characters. I also do not own any references to a certain Tumblr post I saw on Pinterest in this chapter. If it's your post and you recognize it...you brilliant, brilliant human being. I needed that in my life. (clears throat) Back to business. I only own the lovely Cadets Osbourne and Bartowski.**

 **I apologize for the moderate shortness of the chapter, but I think I pack enough plot development in here that it's not _too_ much of a problem. Please review! Reviews are good! Reviews are great! **

* * *

"Jim, how is it that _you_ can convince Kari to do anything, yet when I try to, she automatically resists?" Camille asked, her voice elevated to be heard over the loud, pounding music of the bar. She and Jim had decided to take Bones out as a sort of peace offering. The men were knocking back shot after shot, and she was still nursing her first glass of beer. She preferred to limit herself. Camille had never been drunk…until she met Jim and Bones. Then she'd gotten slightly buzzed. She didn't quite remember what had happened, but she was pretty sure it had been fun.

"Because, Cam," Jim said, his voice just a tad slurred, "she knows I'm appealing to her underdog side."

"That made…absolutely zero sense," Camille said. "Then again, what is that, your twelfth? I should expect nothing less."

She smiled at him teasingly. A slight bit of satisfaction raced through her when she saw Bones grit his teeth and request another shot. Then again, she didn't really want the man to suffer from liver failure. Perhaps she should tamp down on making him jealous for tonight.

"When you try to convince Kari to do something, you come at it from the angle of 'I know best.' When I do it, I come at it from the angle of 'Whatever you want to do, but you'll be rising above so much if you do.'" Jim slammed his shot glass down and motioned for another. "Her underdog side, Cam. Have you ever been the underdog? Besides medically?"

Camille shook her head. Jim was making absolutely no sense. Maybe she should get the pair of them home quickly. Bones was looking a little droopy as it was.

"Okay, cowboy, tenderfoot," she said, standing them both up. "I think the pair of you have had enough."

Jim slipped out of her grasp and grabbed Bones by the face, smushing his cheeks together. Camille rubbed her forehead, exasperated.

"It's like having a pair of two-year-old twins," she muttered to no one in particular.

"You know what, Bones?" Jim asked, and Camille could practically see the alcohol taking over his brain. "You have the world's most boopable nose."

He pressed a finger against Bones' nose, and Camille bit back hysterical laughter as her normally stoic, unflappable friend muttered, "Boop."

Jim swayed on his feet, and Camille grabbed him, draping his arm around her shoulder and grabbing Bones' hand. "Come on, you two. I'll get y'all home and into bed."

"But Mom," Jim protested.

Camille shook her head and dragged them out of the bar. "I would hate to see either of you on laughing gas. If you're this bad on booze…"

"Look, Jim!" Bones called. "She's holding my hand, not yours! You seeing this, Jim Boy? Mine!"

Camille smiled. The man was like a puppet on her strings. Now if he'd just grow a pair and ask her out, that would be great.

* * *

Karina took a deep breath before tapping in the number to the convent. She left it on speaker, pretty sure if she tried holding it to her ear, her shaking hands would drop it.

"Our Mother Of Perpetual Prosperity Orphanage," came the receptionist's voice from the other end.

"This is Karina Bartowski," she said. "I'd like to speak to the Reverend Mother."

A gasp. "Karina! Yes, the Reverend Mother was wondering when you'd be calling. I'll patch you through straight to her office. I hope you find the information you're looking for."

"Thanks."

"And tell your friend, that flirty one," she growled, her voice holding all the disdain she surely felt for Jim, "that I am most definitely not interested in anything over the phone."

Karina groaned. "How many times has he called you regarding anything but my parents?"

"Six."

"I'm sorry about that," she said. "Don't worry, I'll speak to him."

"Thank you. Here she is."

A few moments passed before the familiar, elderly voice said, "Karina. We've missed you here at the abbey."

Karina rolled her eyes. In fact, they were probably just glad to be rid of her. She hadn't ever fit in at the abbey, and the nuns didn't know what to do with her, either. She was different from their other wards, quieter, more serious. But they'd grown so used to her that way, she wasn't sure what they'd think of her now that she'd grown more into herself.

"Reverend Mother, I think you know why I've called. And it wasn't just to socialize."

"Yes," came the voice from the other end. "Though I would not mind if you called to check in every once in a while. Just so I know you haven't died in space."

Appreciating and knowing that the woman did truly care in her own way, Karina said, "I do apologize for that. But I need some information that I believe you have, Reverend Mother. What can you tell me about my arrival at the abbey?"

She could hear the head shake in the old nun's voice. "No. You don't need to know this, my child. I ask you to trust me in this, but if you will not, I will tell you of the circumstances in which you came to us. It is your choice."

Karina took the opportunity. "Please, tell me. I believe I am entitled to know about my past."

"Indeed. Well, if you aren't sitting already, you may want to. This could take a while."

"You were checked in to us quite unexpectedly. Not by any relatives, mind you, though the man did leave their names, which is how we know who they were. He simply brought us a four-year-old little girl who appeared to dislike him immensely. All you said when he was in the room was, 'He took me.' Over and over you would repeat it. None of us had any clue what you meant.

"I spoke with him at length. He was a foreigner of some kind, had an odd accent, I remember."

Karina nodded. "Do you remember what it was?"

"I have no time to discern such things. I spend my time on more important thoughts."

 _Such as how to perfect yourself_ , Karina thought. Willing the woman to go on, she breathed a sigh of relief when she did.

"Anyway, he merely told us that we were to take you in and not ask any questions. When we questioned, he pulled aside his jacket, revealing his weapon. He signed you in, under your parents' names, and told us that they had died in a car crash. You, meanwhile, were off to the corner, being held by one of our nurses and shrieking something about being taken. He left and we never saw him again, but every once in a while, we received money to continue your care. And to keep quiet, I imagine."

"Keep quiet?"

"My child, I was really shocked not to receive a call from you sooner. Have they really not told you at Starfleet?"

Karina gritted her teeth. "Told me what, Reverend Mother?"

"Your father was a national hero, Karina. After what he did for Starfleet, for the future exploration of space, his death was front page on most newspapers across the country. But we were not to tell you any of this. He wanted all trace of Anthony Bartowski erased from his daughter's mind. Wanted her to never know who he was. A last act of revenge, we imagined. So we told you he was a simple accountant who was merely a very bad driver."

Karina soaked that in for a few moments. "And who was he really, Reverend Mother?"

"A Federation agent, child, though not specifically Starfleet. One of their best, actually. Certainly, for two weeks, their most famous. He preferred the earth to the stars. Your mother was an officer of Starfleet, but she resigned her commission to marry him, from what I'm told.

"That is who you are, Karina. That is what has been hidden from you all these years. From what I hear from your supervisor, you are doing them proud."

Karina took a shuddering breath. "Then the man who killed them, he's still out there?"

"They never did catch the man behind the attack. Lots of his lackeys, but not him. But do not think of pursuing this, child. Suffice it to say that you now know."

Karina almost snorted. Like that was going to happen.

"Thank you, Reverend Mother. I appreciate this knowledge."

"Take care, and God be with you, my child."

Karina turned the communicator off. Falling back onto her pillow, she breathed out with the force of a windstorm through her nose. She needed to talk to Captain Pike, and soon. Because when Anthony Bartowski's daughter came to Starfleet, it sounded like that would have been a pretty big deal.

Why hadn't it been?

* * *

The hacker jumped up from his seat. "Yes! I've got it! I'm in!"

Realizing there was no one there to share his revelry, he recovered his dignity and sat back down, searching. The list was in alphabetical order, so it shouldn't be too difficult to find the name he was looking for. But before he quite got there, his eyes fell across another name.

Oh, this was not good. This was dangerous. The boss wouldn't be happy about this one. At least his ire couldn't be directed at him, right?

Praying the boss wasn't one to shoot the messenger, he pressed the number into his communicator.

"Boss, I've got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

A groan. "Good news. Tell me you've been successful."

"Actually, yes. I've got him. He's definitely in San Francisco, sir. Enlisted in Starfleet. But there's someone else you might be interested in looking up while you're there…"

Silence, and then, with a touch of interest, "Go on. You've got my attention."

"It doesn't necessarily have to be the kid, but…"

"Spit it out, you idiot! Who is it?"

He swallowed hard, then delivered the next words as fast as possible.

"Karina Bartowski, sir."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine: In which Bones is mortified, Karina is frustrated, Camille is done, and Jim is offended. But in which there are also many positive things, such as more Bones and Camille moments, and Camille begins to piece together the exact - ahem! - details about Karina's teaching assignment.**

 **Good morning! If any of you were on last night, you may have seen that I updated my Companion One-Shots (I promise, it will get a working title sometime soon!). Besides suggesting that you head over there and read what went down when Karina decided to get lost in a bad part of town - I swear, can that girl stay out of trouble?**

 **Chekov: Ze answer to zat question is decidedly NO.**

 **Shh! Don't spoil anything for them! Anyway, besides suggesting that, I also am informing you that I've developed a habit of letting the characters here give some of my messages. So, be bracing yourselves for that one. And now, over to Bones for the disclaimer.**

 **Bones: browneyedgirl29 does not own Star Trek or its characters. She only owns Camille and Karina. If she did own us, however, there's potential she could keep Jim from getting us into -**

 **And on that happy note, as the good doctor continues ranting in the background, enjoy!**

* * *

Bones' eyes flew open and he sat straight up in bed. What exactly had gone down last night? Most of it was a blur, but what he did remember wasn't exactly the most dignified of stories to tell.

He'd seen Jim drunk before, to be sure, but the man had reached a new level last night. Then again, so had he, but at least he hadn't gone up to Camille and proclaimed she had "the world's most boopable nose." Unfortunately, he _had_ responded when Jim did it to him. And his drunken response was something he'd prefer to forget.

Fervently praying Jim had, as well, Bones lay back down and tried to ease himself back into sleep.

* * *

"So, I guess saving Starfleet is something you come by honestly, then?" Jim said, leaning toward Karina across the table.

"It's not funny, Jim," Karina said. "All I know is the circumstances of my being delivered to the abbey, and how my parents died. And that the nuns, for all their proclaimed holiness, are big fat liars." She put her head in her hands and groaned. "I still don't know exactly what he saved Starfleet from. Or how there were no legal ramifications for my being signed in by someone who shouldn't have even been close to being able to do so. Who was he, by the way? Did he kill them? How long was I with him after they died? The Reverend Mother wouldn't tell me anything else. I swear, I could just – "

She balled her fists and looked about for something to hit. Camille reached out and gently moved her hands back down.

"Easy there, kid. I'm the violent one, not you. The old biddy owed you an explanation, I agree, but have you stopped to consider that she gave it to you? She might not have known anything else."

"She did! I know it!"

Jim, showing all the classic signs of hangover, shook his head. "I'm going to have to agree with Cam here. You've figured out what happened to him. Now sit back, relax, and accept the fact that your father was a hero."

Camille saw Karina's eyes narrow for a brief moment, then her face completely cleared. If Camille could read minds, she imagined Karina was thinking about Jim's father, killed under heroic circumstances. If Jim could get revenge on those who killed him, wouldn't he in a heartbeat?

Of course he would. But Jim was not always the best at seeing when his advice was a bit hypocritical.

Bones wandered up, obviously feeling the hangover a bit more than Jim was. Camille felt sorry for any poor soul who was his patient today. The good doctor was not at his best, it appeared.

"Look who showed up," Jim said as Bones pulled into the seat next to him, across from Camille. "How's the nose?"

Bones, completely deadpan, muttered, "Fine. Now shut up."

Camille looked down at her hands. He remembered that. What else did he remember, she wondered?

Karina, too, was looking down, shaking her head furiously, like a shaggy dog just finished taking a swim. Camille felt a few strands of mousy brown hair whip her cheek as Karina said, "It's not enough, Jim! I can't explain why, but it's not enough. I have to know why he died, if you know what I mean."

Jim looked confused. "Not entirely sure I do, kiddo. Enlighten me."

Karina let out a shout of frustration. Camille resisted the urge to slide down the bench away from her as the population of the mess hall within fifty feet turned and looked at them. Seeing it was just a kid probably going through some form of teen angst, they went back to their lunch, rolling their eyes.

"He was murdered, Jim, probably by people who wanted revenge for a failed operation. How am I supposed to tell whether what he died for was worth it?"

"Kari, calm – "

"You lost your father, too, Jim," Karina said, finally snapping and stating what Cam had predicted she was thinking. "But you've known your entire life what he did was worth it. Mostly because you have life. Think on that one. And call your mother!"

She rose from the table, taking her tray and stalking off. Jim stared after her, then turned back to Camille and Bones. "Ouch."

Camille, too, rose. "Jim, you know I love you. Just saying. Oh, calm down, Bones!" she demanded when his shoulders tensed a little. "I didn't mean like that! Anyway, Jim, but you're an idiot sometimes."

She rose and walked off. Karina had class, so she'd had to leave soon anyway, and Cam didn't go after her. She instead headed for the other side of the cafeteria, where she saw Juliet sitting with Sulu. She'd become good friends with Juliet since January, but hadn't seen much of Sulu – besides the few times he was with Juliet. Most people who hung out with another member of the opposite gender one on one would consider their relationship a bit more than platonic, but not Juliet.

"He's a good friend for me," she told Camille. "He's pretty realistic, which compliments the dreamer in me pretty well. Keeps me grounded. He definitely chased off two guys who were complete jerks that asked me out last week. Well, I guess technically he just warned me off them. Nah, there's nothing there, Cam. Hikaru's a good guy, just not for me." Pausing to consider, she added, "Of course, there's also the matter that he's married. _And_ gay. But details."

Camille briefly wondered why she was so content to let Juliet handle her own romantic affairs – or not so romantic – but when it came to Karina, she was so determined to meddle. Well, the majority of the time, she was just teasing, she supposed. Oh well. Now was not the time.

She slammed her tray down on the table next to Juliet and sat down with a huff.

Juliet stared at her. "Rough day, huh?"

Cam looked at her. "You have no idea. Jim is such an idiot sometimes."

Juliet groaned. "What did he do now, or do I want to know?"

"No, it's fine. He just doesn't always think before he speaks. And he can be a bit of a hypocrite. Just ask Karina."

"Should I?"

"Decidedly not."

"Okay, cool, then."

Camille smiled at the banter she shared with this girl. Juliet was probably a year older than she was, Sulu maybe four years. She didn't mind the age gaps. Heck, Bones and Jim were much older than she was, and she considered them far better friends than these two. And it gave her a good feel for what Kari felt like most of time.

"Distract me, guys," she said. "I'm just kind of done with Jim and Bones for today. I may or may not have taken them out to a bar last night. I had to drag them back and all but tuck them into bed."

What a disaster that had been. Jim, in typical drunken fashion, had forgot that some women were off limits to him and tried making a pass at her. So, naturally, Bones had taken a swing at him, missing by a foot and nearly hitting Camille herself. Judging by her newfound dodging abilities, she came within an inch of a concussion on top of the broken wrist. Therefore, Jim had only gotten dumped on his bed in a heap. She had no clue how he'd been so alert this morning, only showing the other signs of hangover.

Bones, however, she'd taken a bit more care with. A little uncomfortable with the idea of undressing him, she'd made him at least take off his red cadet uniform and strip down to just his boxers. Looking upward so she didn't have to know what his underwear had on them – she was actually quite curious as to whether he had plain white ones or if they had little red hearts on them like you always saw on old cartoons – she'd nearly scared the living daylights out of his roommate when she cried out, "No, Bones!" as he began to remove the boxers, too. She had no idea how the roommate had slept all the way through Bones' drunken stumbling till then.

When the man rolled back over and went back to sleep, she pulled back Bones' sheets and gestured for him to get in. Remarkably obedient when inebriated, Bones had obeyed without question, face-planting onto his pillow before even getting his body into bed.

He showed no intention of moving, so she'd moved to the other side of the bed and taken hold of his feet.

"You'd better appreciate me, cowboy," she muttered as she swung his legs upward and covered them with the sheets.

"Don't worry, Cam," he slurred. "I appreciate you. You're a gem among women! A queen! A goddess!"

"Shut up."

She'd pulled the sheet up the rest of the way and imitated her drill sergeant from her military days. "Now, stay in that bed. That is an order, Doctor."

He sloppily saluted her from his prostrate position. "Aye, Captain!"

She smiled and turned to go but stopped cold when she felt a hand on her wrist. Turning back, she was shocked to see him staring at her. Camille wished she could move, but something prevented her from shaking him off or slapping his hand like she normally would have.

He pulled her down until their faces were inches apart. A few strands of her dark hair fell down and brushed his cheek. He reached up with his free hand and tucked it back behind her ear, lingering for a minute.

"You're beautiful, Camille Osbourne," he said, his voice suddenly very clear, husky like it normally was. "You know that?"

Camille blinked for a few minutes. She hadn't ever really considered herself pretty. When people told her she was, she generally waved it off. But secretly, she was glad Bones thought she was.

Regaining control of herself, she'd pulled back up, smiling as though to dismiss it as a joke, and pried her wrist from his grip. It hadn't been that hard, considering he'd still retained enough of his doctoral inhibitions to only take light hold of her broken wrist.

"Whatever, cowboy," she said. "Now get some sleep."

As she opened his door, she barely heard him drunkenly mutter behind her, "Well, you are."

Snapped back to the present by Juliet asking, "So, did you give Jim that black eye?"

Camille rolled her own. "That's just circles, Jules. You really should know the difference. But believe me, I came close." She turned to Sulu, who'd been waving at someone across the mess hall. Camille looked toward where he was facing. A boy a few years younger than her, about Kari's age, nodded in their direction then walked out of the room.

"Who was that?" Camille asked, curiosity piqued.

"I'm pretty sure his name's Pavel Chekov," Sulu said. "Kid's in one of my navigation classes. I don't think he really has anyone to hang out with at meals or anything. He doesn't speak English very well."

Camille frowned. Wait. Someone around Kari's age…who didn't speak English… Hold up. Wasn't Pavel the Russian form of Paul or something? Not that she knew. She just thought she heard Kari mention it in her random dialect fangirling. She tried to maintain a casual tone as she asked, "So, he's Russian?"

Sulu eyed her. "Yeah, why?"

Camille smirked. "No reason."

She wouldn't bring it up today. No, probably not for a while. Better to catch Karina when she least expected it. There would be no more inquiries to how lessons were going. Or bringing up of any other boys around the Academy. No, she would leave the meddling state blissfully blank and then pounce.

Oh, this was going to be entertaining.

* * *

Bones turned to Jim. "When _was_ the last time you called your mother?"

Jim gave him a look. "Really? That's what you take out of that conversation?"

"Well, it's about all I was here for."

"I called her yesterday before we went out. I just don't advertise it. Honestly, why do you all assume I never call my mom?" Jim asked.

The pair of them lapsed into silence for a moment. Then Bones said, "Jim."

"What?"

"You ever tell anyone about my…" Bones groaned before saying it out loud, barely above a growling whisper, "'boopable' nose again, and I will end you. I'm a doctor. I could make it painful very easily."

Jim nodded. "Noted. So, out of curiosity… what else do you remember from last night?"

He knew if Bones remembered what he remembered, there was no way he'd admit it. But Jim wasn't quite giving up yet in that area. He'd poke and prod his way around until Bones broke.

"Not much," Bones said, as expected.

"Well, don't worry," Jim muttered as he rose to dump his tray. "No hard feelings about Camille holding your hand there."

Bones surged to his feet, staring after his friend's back. Jim had forgotten nothing. His mortification was complete. Sitting back down, he contemplated flinging himself off the roof of the Academy. After last night and the complete fool he'd made of himself on multiple occasions, what was the point of living?


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten: In which Chekov is adorable (what else is new?), Karina is repentant (and also adorable), Pike is concerned, and Camille is...a stalker, perhaps? Yes, that seems like a good term.**

 **Excuse me while I fangirl excessively. Apologies to you all for the lack of Jim and Bones in this one.**

 **I do not own Star Trek! I only own Camille and Karina, and some lovely merchandise that generally has to do with this wonderful series.**

* * *

 _Two Weeks Later_

This was getting to be ridiculous. Ever since she'd told him about her parents, Karina had gone back to her normal, cold self. When they'd parted ways that day, Chekov thought that they'd possibly progressed past that point. Obviously, he'd been wrong. But he knew for a fact that he wasn't wrong about this cold exterior being a façade.

He'd always been good at reading people, even those he didn't know. He had a talent for spotting liars a mile away, knowing when something was actually wrong when someone insisted it wasn't, and a sense for danger. Not that that one had come into play too often, but growing up in Taganrog made that an occupational hazard. And there was no way Karina Bartowski was being this aloof just as a personality trait.

Because he'd seen her around the Academy often enough to know that when she was with her friends – who all appeared older than her by some years, for some odd reason – there was nothing cold about her. She had two faces, and that made him cautious.

But it also made him determined to get to see the other side of her, the one she reserved for her tiny friend circle.

So, every time he saw her, he told himself it was time to address the barrier she'd built up. But for some reason, whenever she walked in the room, he froze. His tongue tied itself in knots if he tried to say anything other than what pertained to her lesson. This had to be witchcraft of some kind, right?

Normally, Chekov would have ruled magic out as an option. But what glinted behind the wall put up in Karina's eyes hinted that it might be a possibility in this situation. She'd obviously cast a spell that locked his jaw unless she wanted him to speak. If she could do that, what else could she make him do?

Finally, after a month of lessons, the spell lifted. Evidently it wasn't a permanent one.

As she turned to leave after her normal businesslike farewell, he found himself blurting out without thinking, "Did I do something to offend you, besides running into you on several occasions?"

Her profile straightened, and she whirled to face him, frowning. "Several?" she asked. "When was - ?" Stopping in the middle of her sentence, her eyes widened. Suddenly awkward, she made her way back to her seat, never taking her eyes off him until she was directly across from him again, at which point she muttered into her lap, "So…you _do_ remember the first day back, then?"

 _Remember_ it? That being the first time, after so many times of him getting a good look at her but not getting even a glance in return, that she actually noticed him, too… How could he forget that?

"That and the other times, too," he said.

She narrowed her eyes. "Other times?"

"You've run into me at least five times in the past year."

"Literally," she muttered under her breath. "So it was the same person…the entire time?" She laughed under her breath, the first time she'd smiled in weeks. "And that person was you, wasn't it?"

He shrugged. "So it would seem."

Karina looked back up at him, finally, and he wondered if she remembered the little staring contest they'd had that first day back. He certainly did.

Her face had slipped back into resting mode, not smiling as it was before, but the corner of her mouth tipped up a little. A half-smile. Chekov could practically see the thoughts running through her head. Brick by brick, her walls were starting to crumble.

An impulsive move on his part, yes. But perhaps impulse paid off sometimes.

She leaned back in her chair and looked up at the ceiling. She let out a groan inexplicably, and for a second he wondered what was wrong when he realized it was merely an expression of frustration. Americans were strange people.

Coming back up, as if for air, she leaned her elbows on the table and rested her head in between her arms. This move, so utterly, completely casual and speaking nothing of the businesslike manner she had always assumed, proved to him that her barrier was completely gone even if her next words hadn't.

"I'm sorry about the way I've been acting," she said. "I guess I just have so many things running through my mind right now. I want to know why my parents had to die the way they did. I'm freaking out about the possibility of not being assigned to the _Enterprise_. And all that's causing me to fail at what I set out to do when we first started these lessons: make learning English more enjoyable for you than learning German was for me. So, once again, I'm really, very sorry about that, Pavel."

So many stories begging to be told just from those few sentences. Karina had obviously uncovered the truth about her parents, but how? Why was getting on the _Enterprise_ specifically such a big deal to her? Sure, it was the newest ship in the fleet, therefore being chosen for it was a great honor, but there was something else behind it. And what was with the comment about learning German? Either way, there was far more to Karina than the façade she'd adopted. Chekov knew he was far too eager for his own good to discover what lay beyond what he'd seen so far, but she had lowered her defenses, and he'd made one good, impulsive decision today. What was another going to harm?

"Apology accepted," he said. Suddenly she reached across the table and touched his arm between the wrist and the elbow, and the tongue-tying spell was cast once more. The further comment he'd planned seemed to lodge in his vocal cords.

"My guess is you were getting pretty tired of my charade, weren't you?" she asked, her voice quieter than normal.

He nodded, and she sighed. "I don't know why I put up that wall. Normally, when I want to hide something, I pretend that everything's fine. But I guess this time I thought if I did that… Well, I don't know what I thought." Her cheeks were turning red, as though she were embarrassed by something, and he got that feeling deep in his gut when someone was covering up, but he figured pressing further was a bad idea. He'd ask her later, but he wouldn't forget.

"The only people who get to see this side of me, the not perfect, not eternally happy side, are usually my closest friends. Or people I'm apologizing to, because I feel like I've done something that prevented them from earning that title." Karina paused for a moment, then let out a giggle. "Actually, I think you're the first one to fit that description."

Still tongue-tied, pretty sure he was probably even redder than she was and wishing she would remove her hand from his arm and yet at the same time hoping desperately that she wouldn't, all Chekov could bring himself to do was nod again.

"So, do you think we could give this 'friends' thing a shot?" Karina asked. "I figure that's the better route versus the one I originally had in mind."

Finally feeling his face lose the wide-eyed look of complete terror that only women could instill – or so his elderly neighbor back in Russia had told him when he was twelve – and instead breaking into a smile, he replied, " _Da_."

Returning the grin, Karina retracted her arm and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms across her chest. "You're a man of few words, I see. Well, forgive me if I talk circles around you from now on."

He frowned. "Talk circles around me?"

Karina closed her eyes and scrunched up her face as though making a mental note. "Right. Figurative language. I keep forgetting that we won't get to that for at least another six months, the way I have the lesson plans figured out."

She went on chattering, but all Chekov could register was that she was planning on being around in six months. Looking at her, completely absorbed in whatever she was saying, no thought to keeping things "professional," it was as though the Karina who'd been teaching him for the past month had disappeared and this new, perhaps a bit hyper but ultimately much more amiable Karina had replaced her.

The stiffness of their interactions had passed, and with it, a huge weight was gone from his shoulders. And, by the looks of her, Karina's, too.

* * *

Camille gave her a look when she walked back in the room. "Someone's happy. Haven't seen you smile like that since before you talked to Reverend Mother."

Karina's lightheartedness dropped just a tad bit. The prospect of dropping her charade and just allowing herself to befriend Pavel was a welcome one, but she still didn't want Cam finding out she spent at least six hours a week with someone of the opposite gender – alone. Although, Camille had been remarkably quiet about the subject of boys for some time now.

If Karina had been a naturally suspicious person, she might have been on her guard about that. But suspicion was not her thing. However, she did have a good reason to give for her jovial mood besides the newfound freedom.

"Well, I decided that for now I'd take Jim's advice and just be content knowing my father died a hero," she said. "I do want to know more about my parents one day, but I have the rest of my life to research their pasts."

Camille smiled. "I think that's a good choice, kid. Especially if it's changed your mood this much. You were starting to worry me. It was getting to be so bad I half expected to come back to the room one day and find you wearing all black, goth makeup, and listening to screamo music. Not that there's anything wrong with it if it was anyone else. You, however? That would have concerned me." She paused, her lip curling just slightly. "You know, of all the music styles we could have held onto from the twenty-first century, did it have to be that screamo stuff?"

Karina shrugged, flopping down on her bed. "I guess one woman's junk is another woman's art, right?"

"Fairly certain you got that saying wrong, Kar."

"I know. It was intentional. Laugh, Cam. It's good for the soul."

Camille got up, muttering, "One hour of ecstasy and suddenly she's lecturing me on the merits of laughing?" The memo board had buzzed, and Camille figured Karina needed at least a few minutes of chilling on her bed before getting up and responding to it.

"Why is it always you they message?" Camille asked upon opening the text. "Why can't I cause enough trouble?"

Rising up off the mattress, her eyes already looking sleepy, Karina shuffled toward the board, groaning, "What did I do this time? This had better be good."

The text was brief.

 _Bartowski. Tomorrow. My office. Ten._

It was from Captain Pike.

Camille stared at her for a few moments. "Oh, honey. What _did_ you do?"

Karina stared at it for a few minutes, wondering if this had anything to do with the lessons. She knew Pike had been checking in on occasion, seeing how much of a conversation Pavel could hold in English. At this point, she was sure the captain had sat there in relative discomfort until he finally discarded his pride and called an interpreter in. But as far as she could tell, he was still progressing remarkably well for someone learning a second language.

Turning back to Camille, she replied in a monotone voice, "I do not know."

* * *

"What, exactly, went down between yourself and Commander Spock a month ago?" Pike asked, rubbing his forehead as though in pain.

Karina barely remembered the encounter, but she replied anyway, "It's a bit of a distant memory, sir, but I believe Commander Spock discouraged me from proceeding in teaching Mr. Chekov English. I merely stood my ground, Captain. I fail to see what I did wrong."

Apparently, so did Pike, or else whatever she'd done was flung to the back of his mind with relative speed. "He discouraged you from it? Why would he do a thing like that?"

"I assure you, Captain, I haven't the faintest idea. As an emotional thinker, understanding a logical mind like the Commander's is beyond me."

Pike acknowledged her statement. "I believe you can be logical when you choose to be, Bartowski. But I don't blame you for not understanding Vulcans sometimes."

He stood. "You're dismissed, Cadet. I'm sorry I called you in prematurely, but I suppose I should have questioned Spock further when he reported to me – "

"He filed a report?" she asked, then bit her tongue. The only trait this man was ever going to associate with her was the tendency to interrupt if she wasn't careful.

"Spock believed you showed lack of respect for a senior officer. I was fairly certain if you had, it wasn't intentional, so I shoved this meeting to the back of my priority list. He failed to mention the circumstances, though. Thank you for bringing that up, Bartowski. I'll get back to you if you need to know any further information."

She nodded. "Thank you, Captain."

Looking down at her feet as she walked along the corridor, she was startled when a pair of hands gripped her shoulders, holding her at arms' length and stopping her from going any further.

"You really should break this habit," Pavel said, looking down at her and grinning. Karina couldn't resist returning the smile. They'd only become friends yesterday, and already she felt completely at ease with him. She hadn't experienced this kind of kinship with anyone other than Camille and Jim. It had taken her a while to warm up to Bones. Not as long as Camille, surprisingly enough, but even then, she didn't have the same connection with him as with the other two.

"I don't _try_ to run into you, you know," she said, the grin not quite leaving her face. "It just happens, I guess."

"Well, it's unhealthy for my toes the majority of the time," he said. She laughed, then glanced at the time.

"Shoot, I've got class in ten minutes. See you later?" she said, starting to walk away.

"See you then," he said to her retreating back.

Karina found herself still smiling as she headed to class. It was amazing how much more relaxed she felt now that she'd just dropped the cool demeanor.

What she didn't see as she walked past was Camille, her face hidden by a magazine, sitting a mere ten feet from the interaction. As her friend went one way and Chekov the other, Camille set her magazine down and practically skipped off toward the clinic. This had become her official meeting place with Jim and Bones every Wednesday around this time, and did she have news for them!

That had so been worth the extra effort it took to hide her face and look casual with one hand. The sooner she got this stinking cast off, the better off everyone would be.


	11. Chapter 11

**Beloved followers! It's been such a crazy week, I nearly forgot about our favorite cadets this morning. However, I remembered at the last second. Here they are, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's a bit more of a filler, but there's _some_ plot advancement. **

**Chapter Eleven: In which Karina and Chekov are actually friends (finally!), Juliet mildly scolds Jim, and Camille springs her meddling trap. Mwahahahahaha! (Sorry. I'm slightly sleep deprived and feeling a little crazy.)**

 **I do not own Star Trek or any of its characters. I only own my plot and my OCs.**

* * *

"Growing up with nuns? It was interesting," Karina said, raising an eyebrow. "What I don't see is what that has to do with simple English phrases."

"It was a question to fill the silence," Pavel explained, as though he were talking to a small child. Karina was getting used to that tone, but it never failed to grate at her. "That's what friends do…ask each other things about their past. At least, I assume so."

Karina gave him her "teacher look," as he'd christened it. He, in turn, gave her what she'd come to call his "puppy eyes."

"Oh, come on!" she pleaded. "Not the face! You know I can't resist the face!"

If anything, it grew more exaggerated. She groaned. "You fight dirty, Mr. Chekov, were you aware?"

He shrugged the jibe off and sat back in his chair. "What can I say? I have that effect on people. Unless it's my sister."

Karina made a mental note about that one, then relented. "Okay, the nuns. Uh…where do I begin? I guess they were kind enough to me…but they didn't really understand me. I was a different kid than they were used to dealing with."

"What, were you a problem child?" he asked.

She stared at him for a few minutes. "Do I _seem_ like a problem child to you?"

His eyes widened, and he backpedaled so fast she had to bite back her laughter, knowing he'd probably think she was making fun of him. And one thing she knew about people from most other cultures – hurting their pride was a bad idea.

"Not really," he stammered. "Just wondering – I mean, what do you mean by different?"

Smiling, finding the whole thing rather cute, she said, "Well, for one thing, I guess I _was_ a…semi-problem child. I mean, I caused some trouble, but it was relatively harmless. I was mischievous, but not devious. Most of the time, I just got scolded for having a big mouth."

"You talked a lot, then?" he asked.

"Yeah. Still do. You know that phrase I used last week?"

"The one about circle talking?"

"Talking circles around you, yeah. Well, I would do that, except it would be during my lessons. Bad idea, right? Especially when your nuns were permitted to use capital punishment. You have no idea."

Noticing how he seemed to avoid her eyes after that one, she frowned and continued. "Anyway, the point is, I wasn't exactly easy, but I wasn't the most difficult child they had. Weird thing was…most of the nuns were younger women who hadn't had experience with children prior to being sent to the abbey. They followed a formula. I was in the Reverend Mother's office one day before I left for Starfleet, and she had a list of good children and not-so-good ones. Seriously! It was like Santa Claus or something."

"And you didn't fit the formula?" Pavel filled in the blank for her, perceptive as always.

"Not in the slightest. I'd rather not fit any formula. That's something I've known from a young age," she said. "So when I saw that I didn't make either list… Let's just say I wasn't exactly torn up about it. Anything else you want to know?"

"How'd you learn so many languages?" he asked. "I mean, you don't just find a girl from Vermont whose only connection with the Russian language is her name who just happens to speak it fluently. So I'm curious."

Without pausing, she responded, "Out of spite."

He frowned. "Come again?"

Karina smiled, memories flooding back. "Well, I guess it started when I was about seven. These nuns were German Roman Catholics. So, they insisted their wards learn German and Latin, as well as take advanced English courses. But the problem was, they also insisted knowing any other languages was a waste of time. We needed German to converse with the bishop, and the priests for confession, and Latin to understand the sermons for mass, but as long as we stayed in the abbey, we didn't need to know anything else."

"You disagreed?" Pavel asked.

"Not necessarily," she said. "I agreed we didn't _need_ to know any others. I just hated that they tried to stifle our learning." When he looked as though he didn't understand, she frowned, trying to think of how to explain it. "I have this, desire, I guess, to learn as much, know as much as possible. Other cultures fascinate me. I believe life is richer when you are well rounded. Knowledge gives me pleasure. Can you understand that?"

He shrugged. Karina sensed that she wasn't going to get anywhere with this, so she moved on. "That was my act of rebellion. They were trying to control me, and I wasn't going to be controlled for anything. I did other stuff to rebel, too," she laughed, remembering her antics. "I may or may not have made up horrible things for confession. I made the visiting priests drop their Bibles at least once per session."

"Like what, if I may ask?"

"Oh, you know… murder and cannibalism."

He looked incredulous. "And they fell for that?"

"I don't truly believe so. I think my lack of respect for their holy profession merely shocked them," she said. "I also dropped German cuss words around the nuns just for fun. But after one too many spankings, I just settled for simple phrases in other languages. And they had no idea what they were hearing. Did you know that hearing the words, ' _Privyet,_ comrades,' can cause a woman to hyperventilate? That one was fun."

Suddenly a thought occurred to her. "Um, sorry. Do references to communism offend you or anything?"

Pavel stared her down for a few minutes until she was almost uncomfortable. "Karina. How long ago was the Russian Revolution? Two hundred years? I think we're over it by now."

She snorted. "Well, not the Americans."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all. I've talked a lot. In circles around you, like I said earlier. So let's talk about you, how about? I've told you about the abbey, tell me about Russia. You said you had a sister? Tell me about her."

The mention of his sister brought a smile to his face, a contagious one.

"Her name's Anastasia. We call her Pteechka, though."

Karina smiled. The term meant "little bird." She imagined the girl to possess the personality of a sparrow, and, if she was anything like Karina, perhaps the attention span of one.

"You remind me a lot of her, actually," he continued, and she logged that away. Attention span of a sparrow, without question.

"How old is she?" Karina asked.

"Fourteen," he said. "She was twelve when I left."

"Haven't you gone back since?" Karina asked. Suddenly she felt a wall go up. That was different, being on the opposite side of the wall in this friendship. Pavel suddenly became very interested in the paper in front of him.

"How do you pronounce this one again?" he asked, awkwardly trying to get back to the situation at hand. Karina opened her mouth to pry once more, but she managed to control her tongue for once, realizing if she pushed, the wall would only resist her prodding.

So though she knew very well he knew how to pronounce it, she said, "Exhausted. It's like tired, only multiplied by infinity."

"Got it," he said. They passed the rest of the lesson in relative quiet, and when she headed back to hers and Camille's room, her mind was spinning at its locomotive speed. What was it about that question that had put the wall up on her normally very open friend?

Then again, now that she thought about it, he wasn't exactly the most open of people. She thought of Camille, who told you exactly what was on her mind without any sugarcoating, but even she'd had her secrets. For weeks Karina hadn't known of the woman's lung condition, and that was something potentially life-threatening.

What secrets were hidden behind that wall she'd just seen? Whatever Pavel Chekov was hiding, Karina was going to get to the bottom of it eventually. Her parents temporarily forgotten, Karina smirked to herself. She had a new mystery to uncover.

* * *

Juliet paused at the corner, spotting something that was not a common phenomenon. Jim Kirk was sitting at a café table, completely alone, with a cup of black in front of him, looking completely and utterly despondent.

She turned to Sulu, whom she was walking with. "Give me one second," she said. Walking up to Jim, she sat down in front of him, crossing her arms on the table. "Call your mother," she said simply. Jim stared at her, dumbfounded.

"How did you – ?"

"Cam."

"Remind me never to tell her anything again."

Jim shook his head. "I know I should," he said. "But what do I say? Hi, Mom. I'm alive. No attacks. Yeah, I learn how to disable a torpedo today. She's seen it all. Done it all. And left me behind on Earth while she did so."

"Well, what if you have a kid someday, Jim?" Juliet asked. "What will you do? Ditch a promising career with Starfleet until he's eighteen?"

Jim paused. "I honestly don't know," he said. Looking up at her, he asked, "Would you?"

She shrugged. "Never thought about it, but I don't think so. Maybe I relate to your mom. Who knows? Anyway, call her. I do know she wants to hear from you."

And with that, she waltzed back over to Sulu, leaving Jim alone once more with that tidbit of information.

* * *

"So," Camille asked, as soon as Karina walked in the room. "How'd the lessons go?"

In typical form, Karina nodded, barely looking up from the paper she was frowning at. No wonder the kid had problems looking where she was going. "Good."

"You getting a lot done?" Camille continued casually.

"I think so. We're getting farther than I expected to by this point in time," Karina said, blissfully unaware of Camille's schemes.

Grinning, the older girl said, "Mm-hmm. And Pavel seems to be getting it quickly enough?"

Karina nodded again. "Yeah, actually. He's a natural at this. I've been thinking about suggesting he switch to communications from navigation, but something tells me I won't get anywhere with – " She paused, and then her jaw dropped. Slowly turning to look at Camille, she asked, "How the heck did you find out?"

Camille laughed and sat back on her bed. "Oh, I have my ways, sweetheart. So tell me. Why did you consider that such important information to keep from me, huh? Afraid I would try to push something on you?"

Karina groaned and fell down, face into pillow. "Please don't, Cam. This is a really great friendship. That's all I want it to be. Why would I want to ruin something this great, complicate it? Can't you understand that?"

Camille smiled. "Relax, Kari. I've started to see where you're coming from with the 'no boys' thing. Men do make life more complicated, don't they?"

"Uh-huh. Especially," Karina smiled slyly at this one, "cowboys, right?"

Camille emitted a sound of fake disgust. "Hey, you're not allowed to turn around and pull that same stunt on me after you just asked me to not do so on you. You have my word that I will not try to plant any ideas in your head. If you want to just be friends, don't let me stand in your way."

She turned toward the bathroom, then turned back, a thought occurring to her. "However, I do insist on permission for one thing."

"Oh, dear," Karina muttered, flipping the pillow over onto her face.

Camille sat down on her bedside and removed the pillow. "I'm serious here. I need you to listen to this. It's important, young lady."

Karina nailed her with a withering gaze, then finally threw her hands up in surrender. "Proceed," she muttered. "But be quick about it."

"If I ever see you, with anyone, and you obviously have feelings for that person but won't admit them out loud, I get permission to call you on it. Deal?"

Camille was more than a little shocked when, rather than nodding her consent to a good idea, Karina merely scoffed at her.

"Okay, aren't we being a little hypocritical there? I'm sure a certain doctor would love to hear of someone's feelings for him."

Camille conceded the point. "Okay. Unless I know you have a good reason. And I won't do it right away. I'll only do it if I think you're causing yourself more harm than good. And if this person has the potential to be really good for you. I give you permission to do the same to me. Okay?"

Karina nodded. "Sounds fair to me."

"Great!" Camille said, flopping back on the bed, leaning on her elbows so she could look back up at the other girl. "Now, go ahead. Say what you need to say."

"Why are you torturing poor Bones?" Karina exclaimed. "Haven't you kept him in suspense long enough?"

Camille shrugged. "Maybe. But it is rather fun to watch him squirm sometimes, don't you think? Did you know he totally thinks I like Jim?" She let out a derisive laugh and fell flat on her back. "As if."

Karina, her protective side rankled, asked, "What's wrong with Jim?"

Camille rose up again. She mused. "You know, one day Jim's going to make some woman very happy. Of that I'm certain. But I also know that she isn't going to be me, and she's only going to be happy once he does some serious growing up. Like growing a pair and calling his mom every once in a while."

Karina, though agreeing, wasn't quite ready to drop the point. "You think Jim will ever actually settle down?"

"When he does, it'll likely be with some alien or other. Definitely saw him sneaking into one of the Andorian cadets' rooms last night."

"His latest conquest," Karina muttered. She flipped around so she was lying side by side with Camille. The two girls stared up at the ceiling. Karina pushed a button on the bed post, a unique invention that they'd only recently discovered, even after living in the room for more than a year. The metal ceiling morphed to reveal the starry sky above. Of course, it was only a simulation, but it mirrored exactly what the sky would have looked like were they actually outside – and without all the smog.

Contemplating their future traveling through those stars, Karina asked, "Do you ever wonder if our job just maybe doesn't lend itself to relationships? Serious ones, anyway?"

Camille shrugged. "I don't know. I certainly hope so. But hey," she said, reaching over and taking Karina's hand, "it does present some pretty great friendships, from my experience."

Karina smirked. "Even if it does take us a while to let them in, right?"

Camille raised her head, staring at her friend. "Wait, what?"

"Never mind," Karina muttered, smiling and closing her eyes.

Bones would come in later to find the pair of them sleeping, Karina's head resting on Camille's shoulder. He'd be hoping to catch Camille on her own, but couldn't help smiling just a little at the display. That was one of the many things he appreciated about Camille, was how protective she looked, how innately Karina seemed to trust her.

No, maybe now wasn't the best time to tell Camille what he'd been itching to for ages. No, it was probably for the best. After all, there was no way she could feel the same spark he did every time she walked through the clinic door, right?

Shaking his head at his own foolishness, but still smiling, Bones grabbed a throw blanket off of Camille's bed and laid it over the girls. He grabbed Camille's card off of her desk chair where it hung, locked the door, said, "Lights off," and slipped quietly out of the room, the door sliding shut behind him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve: In which Jim finally calls his mother, Karina does some interrogating and finds out just how much Chekov loves Russia, and we have more cryptic side plots!**

 **Have fun! I own nothing!**

* * *

Jim held the PADD in his hand, staring at it. He knew the number. Why was it so hard for him to put it in? Everything in his brain was screaming at him that it wasn't worth it. He'd never made an effort to keep in touch with his mom in the years previous, unless they were both back in Riverside. Why start now?

Yet he knew the others were right. Juliet, Cam, Kari. Bones, especially. She hadn't exactly had an easy life, his mother. The woman deserved more than a son who never contacted her.

He thought about his father, about Karina and her parents. He and Karina were living proof that one's parents didn't stay around forever, and could be taken when you least expected it. He'd never gotten to know his father, he didn't intend to make the mistake of repeating that habit with his mother.

Tapping in the number, he put it on speaker. Surprisingly, her voice on the other end didn't exactly strike guilt into him, but rather relief that could only stem from an innate knowledge that he'd done the right thing here.

"James Tiberius, I thought we agreed on every week. It has been two months since I last heard from you, young man! Where has my call been?"

A smile spread over his face, one that was characteristic of a conversation with one's mom. And in that instant, he knew something: You never outgrew needing your mother. That was something that was evident in his young friend without mother _or_ father.

Speaking of…

"Well, you know, Mom…life of a cadet. Plus, I've been helping Kari with some stuff. Researching things."

A snort sounded from the other end. "You? Actually doing homework on something? Miraculous. So, tell me about this."

"Eh. It might bore you," he teased, knowing full well her response.

"Jim, don't you pull that 'boring' stunt on me," she growled. "I'm an old woman. Nothing bores me anymore except everyday life. Now what are you helping that girl with? I miss you and your friends, Jim. I know I only met them once, but I'd like to hear how they're doing, too."

"Maybe I'll have Kari call you sometime," he suggested. "I think she'll enjoy that."

"I'd enjoy it, too," she said. "But what I'd enjoy even more is knowing what you've been researching for her. Spill the details, young man!"

So Jim laid it all out for his mother, telling her everything about Karina, her parents, and his scheme to make Bones jealous so he'd ask Camille out faster. By the end of that one, Winona Kirk was in stitches. They hung up, Jim promising he'd give her a call in a week. He should feel fulfilled, he knew. But he realized that he'd told her all about those around him, but nothing about himself. Compared to romantic antics and questionable pasts, his getting an Andorian to take him back to her room seemed rather unimportant.

Not that he would discuss that with his mother in the first place.

* * *

October slipped into November, and Karina was starting to think about what she was doing for Thanksgiving. Jim had invited her and Bones to Iowa with him, and Camille was going back to New York. She knew she'd be welcome either place, and was torn. She'd love to see Cam's family again, but she'd missed Jim's mom, too. The woman had called her out of the blue the other day, and it had made her week, but almost made things so much more difficult to decide.

Thinking she might as well get another's opinion on this, someone completely neutral, she asked Pavel at their next lesson, "So, I guess you didn't do Thanksgiving in Russia, did you?"

"Considering that it's an American holiday, I'd say that's a pretty accurate guess," he muttered, for once more focused on the assignment in front of him than dragging information about her life from her. Karina frowned. He knew so much about her by now, but she hadn't learned a single thing about him, other than what she could tell just from knowing him.

"Well, now that you're in America, do you do anything while everyone else is gone?" she probed, and he looked up at her, an eyebrow raised in a way that reminded her remarkably of a certain Vulcan xenolinguistics instructor.

"I don't see what that has to do with complex Standard phrases," he said, a grin slowly creeping across his face and giving away the serious façade.

Reaching across the desk and shoving his shoulder playfully, she rolled her eyes. "Ha. You're hilarious, aren't you? Turning my words back on me. Seriously, though."

He shrugged. "Not really. I didn't last year, I probably won't this year. It's just not that big of a deal to me, I guess."

Karina mimicked the eyebrow raise. Pavel may be able to see right through her, but that went both ways, and it wasn't because she was good at the reading people thing, either. He tried concealing what he was actually thinking, but most of the time it was written all over his face. For some odd reason, she admired that, though she imagined he considered it a curse. How she could admire the ability to be unreadable in Camille and the ability to be completely transparent in Pavel was a mystery to her, but so it was.

And right now, he was totally trying to put up a tough face for her. Karina pushed the papers in front of her to the side, then took the one in front of him and set it on top of the pile. Forcing him to look her in the eye – a remarkable feat for either of them, one of the things they'd discovered was that they were both awful at eye contact for longer periods of time – she said, "You know what I think? I think it bugs you a lot more than you think it does."

No response from him. She pressed on. "I think when everyone else has someone to go home to, you feel a little lonely, don't you? I'm no idiot. Overseas air travel isn't exactly cheap. You can't just hop a shuttle back to Russia, can you? So here you stay. Even then, I'm not sure, but I don't think you _want_ to go back, do you?"

"I wouldn't mind going back," he started, but she held up a hand, stopping him before he could continue.

"Yeah, I know you love Russia itself. That much I have gleaned. What I don't know is why you don't want to go back to your family. We've spent so much time talking about me, that I know next to nothing about you. I mean, you don't have to tell me the deep, dirty stuff yet," she added, seeing the guarded look rise in his eyes again. It dropped with his next sentence.

"You think I have a deep, dirty past?" he asked, and she gave a small laugh.

"I admit, it does sound a little ridiculous, even to me. But there's got to be something behind that wall you've got built up. I'm supposed to be the impenetrable one here, remember?" She figured a little teasing wouldn't hurt.

Throwing his hands up in the air in mock exasperation, he said, "I thought we were past that!"

"We are," she reassured him. "What I do know about you is that you're a pretty good guy, in spite of what you're running from. Also, you're a really good friend, even for such a short time. You have no idea how good it felt to have someone just ask me about me and let me bare my soul to them, Pavel. No idea. So now I get to do the same for you."

The look of stark terror in his eyes suggested that he did, in fact, have no idea how good it felt. He looked as though he would rather die.

"It's only fair," she told him. "I won't ask you anything I think will make you uncomfortable and if I step over a line, you can refuse to answer. There. That make you feel better?"

He nodded. "Okay. I'm ready."

She couldn't help but grin. He still looked genuinely terrified of what she was going to ask him.

"Let's start with basics. Full name?"

"Pavel Andreievich Chekov."

"Okay," she said, pretending to take note. "That answers your father's name, as well. I was going to ask that later. Favorite color?"

"Ehhhh…green."

"Birthday?"

"September 19th."

"Is this really so bad?" she asked, grinning even bigger than before. He shrugged, gesturing for her to go on.

"Best friend's name, from back in Russia?"

"Dimitri Spasonov."

"This one is probably going to be hard: Favorite thing about the mother country."

Pavel looked at her as though she'd asked him to pick his least favorite child and offer it up as a human sacrifice. "What are you trying to do to me here?"

"Take as long as you need. I've got all day. No plans at all."

After a brief moment, he finally groaned and put his head down on the table. "I can't do it. It's tearing my brain apart as we speak."

"Okay, maybe that's a bit unfair. Let's go on to a new one…I just realized I actually have no clue how old you are."

"Just turned seventeen."

Karina finally relented. "I think that's a decent start. I've got the basics down, right? Anything else I should know? Off the top of your head?"

He shrugged. "Not that I can think of."

She grinned mischievously. "Okay, cool. Now, how about those complex Standard phrases? Stop distracting me, Pavel! Gosh!"

To his credit, he handled her teasing rather well. Returning the grin, he returned to the paper in front of him. "Crazy _Americanka_ ," he muttered under his breath. Amused at her new nickname but not opposed to it, Karina elected to ignore it. She'd let him think she didn't know what he called her on a regular basis.

* * *

"You're sure this is a good idea?" the slightly built, tan man sporting a full beard asked of his companion, who was just clicking his communicator off. "It's been almost two years, why not just let this go and get on with your life?"

The other, not quite as lean but also not quite all the way to muscle-bound, shook his head. "And what would I have people say of me then? That I've gone soft? No, this must be done."

"I'm just saying – "

"And have you gone soft, my friend?" the taller man, his voice full of barely concealed venom, asked. "What would you do in my shoes? You have cause to contemplate that, you know. If the theory of the domino effect is correct, you may well find yourself in this same situation, and then what will you do with your half of the business?"

The other snorted, almost entertained by his friend's choice of words. "Business," he spat. "Never did understand your use of that term, even in closed quarters. No, I have not gone soft here. You were there eleven years ago, or has your memory faded that much?"

"Then you are with me in this, Vladimir?"

Vladimir paused, then heaved a sigh. "I suppose so. Though I don't doubt that you on your own could do the job just as well. Less suspicion will be raised with just one of us than with the pair of us together."

His friend shook his head. "No, this is not just a matter of retrieving a prodigal, Vlad. This is nothing less than tying up some loose ends. That establishment has been a thorn in our side for more than twenty years, and the minor setback of eleven years ago changes nothing. Memories fade quickly in this new age. No one will remember our faces, much less our names. We were careful enough last time. This time, we will be even more so."

"Meaning?" Vladimir asked, though he had a decent feeling he knew.

"I will not rest until the Starfleet Academy has been reduced to a hole in the ground. Only then can we have truly won."


	13. Chapter 13

**Beloved readers! I promise I didn't forget about you this morning, and I know I'm late! There were a lot of appointments on my schedule, and I tried to get it off before I left, but I just didn't have time. So, in return, this chapter is actually super long. Have fun with it!**

 **(P.S. Beyond is on DVD. I officially own Beyond. I watched. I cried. I listened to Sledgehammer as I posted this. It was beautiful.)**

 **AHEM!**

 **Chapter Thirteen: In which Bones and Camille are precious, Karina discovers her competition - and exactly _why_ Spock was being so illogical earlier, Sulu decides to test Chekov's Standard abilities (and the results are glorious!), Karina does some spring cleaning, the pair of them are adorable little cupcakes, and Camille has some mom-time. Also, predictions are made. Will they be true? Y'all have to wait to find out! Mwahahahaha!**

 **I own nothing!**

* * *

"Have you even been wearing your cast?" Bones asked, quite certain he already knew the answer. Camille's jaw tightened in her typical I'm-too-stubborn-to-function way.

"Of course I've been wearing my cast, Bones," she growled. "It's a bit difficult to take off, don't you think?"

"Well, what have you been doing in the meantime?" Bones asked. "Pounding your wrist up against your bed post or something? At this point, I'm going to have to push your removal back a month."

"A month!" Camille protested, her mouth falling open in indignation. "Come on, Bones!"

He shrugged, irritation running through his veins. How hard was it to understand that you had to actually rest an appendage for it to heal properly? At this rate, she'd be lucky if it ever functioned correctly again, though he figured if he tried telling her that she would go positively ape on him. And Camille going ape was something he tended to avoid at all costs.

There were some pretty great aspects of her intense personality. Her defensive side for one. The way fire glinted in her eyes whenever his ex-wife came up in conversation. Her disapproval of any woman Jim happened to be going after, even if she knew Jim had no intention of pursuing anything more than a one-night stand. How she was just protective of Karina in general.

And the woman's fighting spirit was nothing short of enamoring. Her determination last year to beat her lung condition was what had first drawn him to her. Okay, if he were to be honest, it was her innate determination to have her way with him – which had been not at all. Why he'd found the fact that she wanted nothing to do with him attractive, he had no idea. Maybe he was just a glutton for punishment.

But what he liked most about Camille was that she was dependable. Bones tried to be dependable when he cared enough about a person to call them more than just a casual acquaintance. It was rare to find someone who fit his standards for that, and after his divorce, he was a bit gun shy, in any relationship. How he and Jim managed to get along so well, he had no idea.

Camille, however, he would trust with his life. She may be young, but he knew she would never let him down, never betray his trust.

Well, unless he trusted her to take care of any healing injuries herself. His life, he'd trust her with, but her own? He wasn't quite sold on that one yet.

"Look, Cam," he said. "Just be glad I'm not keeping you on bed rest until then. And believe me, I've been tempted. Like it or not, you have a tendency to injure and keep injuring yourself."

"Are you saying I don't care about my own health?" Camille demanded.

Bones groaned inwardly, rubbed the space in between his forehead and eyes, fighting that headache that threatened to rise every time she demanded an explanation for his diagnosis. Or anytime they argued, for that matter. Knowing that giving her a heated reaction would just give her exactly what she wanted, or, for that matter, make her more defensive, he bit his initial response.

"No, that was not what I was saying at all," he told her. "What I was saying is that you can be reckless sometimes. And not always think about what it's going to do to your injury. You want the best of both worlds with this, Cam. You want to live life without any impairments, but you also want to ignore the healing of said impairments. Is that clear?"

Camille tilted her head, intrigued. "How do you know so much about how my brain works, Bones? It's kind of freaky, to be quite honest with you."

How was he supposed to respond to that? Tell her that he was observing her closely every time they were together? That as much as he did enjoy Jim's company – annoying little jerk though he was – and Karina's, the reason he got up in the morning to drag himself down to the cafeteria was to see her before his long shift in the clinic? That he wanted to know every single detail about her, so he observed? That maybe he wasn't as surface as he appeared?

How was he supposed to tell her that when he knew there was no possible way she felt the same way about him?

Fortunately, he didn't have time to even attempt to formulate an answer, because she picked herself up off the table and brushed some stray hair out of her face. Adjusting her cast and grimacing slightly, she said, "Okay, fine, Bones. I'll be more careful. I promise."

She looked up at him as though expecting something else. Suddenly he was painstakingly aware of her nearness. She was looking up nearly a foot into his eyes directly, and he found himself mesmerized.

"I'll believe it when I see it, Cam," he responded, amazed at how under control he sounded, not as if there were sparks shooting all throughout his senses, as if his heart wasn't pounding out of his chest.

Camille looked as though she were about to leave, then turned around and hopped up on her tiptoes, pecking him on the cheek quickly. Then she hurried out, passing Juliet hurrying Sulu in before her.

"I keep telling you, I understand your love of Japanese cuisine, but you can always splurge and go find a sushi joint some place, Hikaru! There's no need for you to risk suicide by trying to make it on your own when you've never cooked a day in your life!" Juliet was railing at Sulu, who was holding his right hand under his left thumb, which was gushing blood at an indecent rate.

Shaking her head, Juliet turned to Bones. "Hey, Bones, do you have a prescription for pigheaded- Bones? Bones?"

Bones was barely paying attention. He was just staring straight ahead, vaguely aware of a tingling sensation on his face and trying to remember what his name was and what day of the week it was. He turned to Juliet, shaking his head as if to clear it.

"Sorry about that. What were you saying?"

* * *

"Cadets, this exercise will be more properly executed if done in partners. However, I have taken the liberty of selecting them for you," Spock intoned, eyeing his students. There was a low murmur spreading throughout the classroom, followed by a few audible groans from his less inhibited pupils. Karina, who'd learned something about exhibiting tact, was decidedly not one of them.

"Experience has taught me that allowing you to choose your own will merely impede your progress. I have posted the pairings. Now proceed, please, Cadets."

Karina tapped on the screen at the top of the table to see who Spock had paired her with. Uhura. Okay, that wasn't too bad. She didn't really know her that well, but Uhura seemed like a decent person, albeit one who would be dangerous to cross. Karina didn't intend to make that mistake.

Normally, Karina took it upon herself to make the switch of seats and go to her partner's table, but today she'd hesitated just a little too long, and Uhura came to her. Karina shot her a small smile in greeting and pulled up the assignment Spock had also put on the screens. Karina herself found that she preferred paper to computers, but she knew she was one of the few who did. Apparently her Vulcan instructor did not share the same love for killing trees that she had.

"So, how are you finding morphology to be?" Uhura asked her. "Easy, hard?"

"Relatively easy," Karina said automatically. It wasn't an automatic response because she wanted people to think she wasn't out of her league here. It was the truth. But she could tell from the slight change in Uhura's facial expression that she didn't believe her. Sometimes Karina really hated being a kid in Starfleet.

Fortunately, that had been one of the great things about her friendship with Pavel. He could totally relate. Both of them were slightly younger than the average cadet – okay, correction. He was riding on the border of slightly. But she was fully immersed in the _much_ younger category. Funny how a simple twenty-one month difference could do that.

Either way, he totally got it, even more than Cam did. Camille may have been younger than average, and she may have looked it, but her personality and confidence made up for it. Karina didn't quite have that confidence. But she wasn't ashamed of being a kid. It was something she wanted to appreciate while it was here.

Seriously, though, the way Uhura was looking at her bugged her. She cleared her throat and asked, "What about you?"

Uhura shrugged. "A breeze, I guess," she said. "But this assignment in particular is getting me."

"Is there something I can help you with, Cadets?" Spock asked, walking past.

Uhura shook her head. "No, thank you, Commander."

He nodded, lingering a bit longer. Karina thought that slightly odd, considering how illogical it was that they might need help this early on in the game. She looked at him, saw his eyes linger on Uhura.

And suddenly everything was clear to her.

How could she have missed it? The way his demeanor changed slightly whenever she spoke, the way she was almost too eager to please him. And all this time, Karina had just thought Uhura had a case of teacher's pet! Well, she did…but for an entirely different reason than Karina had suspected.

Not that Karina had issue with that part. Even though it was a bit, well, forbidden, it wasn't uncommon for Academy instructors to have affairs with their cadets. The ones who were of age, of course. Were she in Uhura's shoes, it would have been far, far different. That would have been bordering on harassment, no matter how decorated of a graduate Spock was.

Karina almost found herself smiling. She could picture the pair of them together, shocking though it was to see her cold, calculating instructor in that sort of relationship with anyone. It didn't have the same thrill for her as Camille and Bones, but it did seem closer to fruition than the pair of them.

What gave her pause was another detail. Spock called everyone but Uhura "cadet." He insisted on calling her "lieutenant." Karina frowned. Wasn't there some regulation about that?

Yes! Instructors had the option of calling cadets by their official rank. It was recommended that they address them as "cadet" in order to avoid the possibility of a cadet considering their officers their peers, rather than their superiors.

But what actually got her was that the highest rank a cadet could achieve in the Academy was Ensign – just as she had, and Pavel had. The only way you could become a lieutenant was…

She eyed Uhura, who was now intent on the assignment in front of them.

…currently being the top cadet in your field. Such as Jim, Bones, Camille, and… Uhura, evidently.

The woman she was currently manacled into working with was her flipping competition for the position on the _Enterprise_!

Uhura looked up at her, frowning. Karina mentally kicked herself, realizing that the sudden feeling of utter despising she felt was probably written all over her face.

"Something wrong, Karina?" she asked. Karina shook her head, fully intending to cover her tracks on that one. If everything went according to plan, Uhura would never know that Karina had an eye on her spot.

"No, nothing. Nothing at all."

* * *

"How's the English lessons going?"

Chekov hadn't expected to run into anyone today. Even though Starfleet encouraged its recruits to stay in shape physically, most people preferred to utilize the gymnasium, rather than the track. Or, if they were running, they went through the streets and hills of San Francisco. However, not many of the Starfleet officers were runners, he guessed. So, he'd thought he'd have the track completely to himself today.

What he'd expected even less was to hear the older cadet whom he recognized from Navigation speak to him in perfect Russian.

"Good," he responded. "How did you know about that?"

The man held his hands up in the air. "I don't actually speak Russian," he said, back to English. "Karina just told me to ask you that at some point."

Chekov nodded, thinking he understood the gist of what he'd said. He and Karina talked in Russian the majority of the time, except when she was teaching him directly. And she was about the only person he talked to conversationally… so he didn't have all that much experience. Good news was this guy seemed to understand how to speak to someone learning a new language.

"I feel you, you know," the guy said. "I had to learn both English and Japanese at the same time when I was a kid. New languages kind of suck." He held his hand out. "Sulu, by the way."

Chekov frowned, and the guy grinned, realizing he hadn't clarified. "My name," he added. "Don't worry, it's not something Karina hasn't covered with you yet or anything."

Seeing the humor but still a little embarrassed, Pavel at least managed to return the grin. "Chekov," he said, figuring that, like most of the male cadets here, they'd stick to a last-name basis. Figuring he should potentially make some kind of conversation, he searched for something in his arsenal of English phrases that somewhat resembled small talk.

"So...how do you know Karina?" was what he finally settled on. He must have sounded defensive or something because Sulu took a break from his stretching and once again held his hands up, as though showing himself unarmed.

"Don't worry about that one, _trust me_. I mean, I'm not saying she won't be a very attractive woman one day, but if you're interested – "

Chekov immediately backpedaled, saying, "No, no! Definitely not what I meant. I'm just…" He searched for the word.

"Curious?" Sulu offered helpfully. Chekov nodded, wondering if perhaps he wasn't reacting a bit too strongly. Sulu appeared to not believe him in the slightest, but was also tactful enough not to press the matter.

"I don't, not really. I mean, we may have fought off a group of Romulans together at the beginning of the year, but that doesn't leave much time to get to know someone, does it?"

"Zat vas you?" Chekov exclaimed, suddenly not hearing anything else Sulu had said. The other cadet shrugged.

"Honestly, it was more Karina and her friends than anyone else. Me and my friend Juliet were sort of just back up."

Chekov contemplated that for a few minutes. She hadn't told him that part of her life. But if it was anything like it sounded like, Karina had been instrumental in saving Starfleet. How had he not known that?

"We were asked not to advertise it," Sulu continued, answering Chekov's question. Clearly they were done talking about Karina, because he continued, "So, what brings you to the track today?"

Chekov shrugged. "Just felt like running. I come here at least once a week. Running helps me think sometimes."

Sulu looked surprised. Eyeing him up and down, he said, "You must be about the only reason they keep this thing, then. I mean, I understand its importance, and everything, but I usually prefer the streets when I'm running casually."

"What are you doing today, then?" Chekov asked. He wasn't sure if what he did was casual running… or if he even believed there was such a thing.

"Training," Sulu responded, going back to his stretching. "You heard about the annual Starfleet marathon, Chekov?"

" _Nyet_ – I mean, no," Chekov said. "It vould be adwertised in English, right?"

Sulu smacked his forehead. "Right. Sorry, I didn't even think about that one. So, there's this marathon every year at the end of March. A marathon, you know," he amended when Chekov looked confused, "a bunch of people running around a track to see who gets there first?"

Chekov nodded his understanding. "Go on."

"Anyway, I realize it's still about five months away, but I figure training for it now's a good idea, right?" Sulu asked.

Chekov thought it seemed a bit excessive, but held that opinion in. Sulu struck him as an ambitious sort of person so maybe that was just the way the older cadet was. "How fast are you?" he asked, curiosity suddenly piqued.

Sulu grinned. "I can hold my own," he said. "You?"

Chekov shrugged, attempting to dismiss the question. "I'm not bad," he said, knowing he was downplaying everything. In all actuality, he was pretty fast. When he was a kid – well, a younger kid – back in Russia, he could pull any manner of prank on his friend Dimitri. Normally, Dimitri had a temper that would terrify a much braver child than Chekov had been, though he hadn't exactly been lacking for guts. However, he could outdistance Dimitri by a mile every single time. And he'd had other reasons for being fast.

Sulu stood, looking as though he liked the idea of a challenge. "You want to have a go of it? See which one of us 'not bad' runners is worse?"

Normally, Chekov didn't consider himself a competitive person, but hey, running was running. Recalling a phrase Karina had used the other day, he grinned. "You're on."

The pair of them lined up side by side, directly behind the line that marked the starting point. Sulu looked over at him. This guy was clearly a competitive person by nature. "You sure you don't want me to go easy on you?" he asked, a smirk twisting his mouth in a way that made him look slightly arrogant.

"Your choice," Chekov said indifferently.

"On my mark…" Sulu said, gave the count-off, and then the pair of them were off like a pair of bullets around the track, faster than if there'd actually been a starting pistol in use.

Chekov didn't remember pulling ahead of Sulu. In fact, he didn't remember most of the run. They hadn't agreed to do more than one lap, but by the end of the fifth lap, Sulu was lagging rather far behind as Chekov came to a stop back where they'd began. He pulled off to the side and waited for Sulu to get there. Seeing he was clearly beat, the older cadet slowed down to a walk and finally, upon arriving, bent over, hands on his knees, panting and looking for all the world utterly spent.

"Not…bad?" Sulu asked, looking up at him. "That was the fastest I've ever…you probably cleared that in… Just, wow." Straightening, Sulu smiled in amusement. "I'm not sure whether I'm more annoyed or impressed that you beat me."

"You don't seem annoyed," Chekov offered, thinking he'd be helpful. Sulu just laughed, however.

"I guess the impressed part of me is winning, then," he said. "Just saying, you should really think about competing in that marathon. I mean it!" he exclaimed when Chekov made a dismissive gesture. "I mean, look at you! I'm here, about ready to quit for the day, and you look like you could go for another fifteen laps."

"Vy vould I vant to?" Chekov asked. "Ze marathon, I mean. Give me one good reason."

"I don't think you hate running, for one thing," Sulu said. "Take it from someone who's been accused of being a workaholic, doing something for the pure enjoyment of it isn't a bad idea every once in a while. Me? I read, fence and attempt to make my own sushi. You? Seems like you run. If for no other reason, do it for that."

Flipping his towel over his shoulder, Sulu turned to go, then turned back. "You know, I'm a realist. But there's something to be said for escapism, Chekov. It's why I read. But what I saw just there? I think you go to a whole other world when you're running. It's not, well, _running_ from real life if you want to go there. Just something to think about."

He actually went this time, but shouted over his shoulder, "You can sign up for it at any time, even the day before. Oh, and there's a prize… of monetary value. If that holds any sway for you."

More than Chekov cared to admit.

He could do it, he guessed. But there was a reason he was trying not to draw attention to himself here, a valid reason. Plus, when it came down to it, running was what he was good at. Running in general, and running from his problems.

* * *

Karina knocked on the door. She hadn't been in many other cadet's rooms before, mostly hers and Jim's, so she hadn't known this wing of rooms existed before today. Checking her watch, she knew Camille was probably pacing the room, freaking out about potentially missing their shuttle. Karina had finally made the decision to go to Cam's for the holiday. She'd spend at least one week with Jim and his mom in December.

"You will stay with her, won't you?" she'd demanded of Jim before he and Bones had left to catch their shuttle. "It's a holiday, Jim. You should spend it with your mother for that reason, if nothing else."

He'd laughed and pulled her into a bear hug. "Relax, Kari. We won't get a hotel this time. Mom already basically ordered that we take her guest room. Well, Bones'll get that. I'll probably be banished to the couch. Unless Bones wants to spoon, isn't that right, Bones?"

Bones had shot him a death glare. "Don't even think about it. I know how to kill you in a hundred and fifty different ways that will make your death look perfectly natural."

Karina actually had briefly considered staying here in San Francisco for the holiday. She imagined most of the cadets would be gone for the weekend, and Starfleet didn't roll out the stops exactly for Thanksgiving. She just didn't like the idea of Pavel feeling alone. It wasn't exactly a big deal holiday-wise for him, she knew. But it had to get lonely sometimes when everyone else had vacated. How had the month-long hiatus this summer been for him, she wondered?

In the end, though, she'd figured it would be rude to turn down General and Mrs. Osbourne's invitation for favor of someone she'd only been friends with for a few months, when she wouldn't even be celebrating the holiday in that case. So, instead of bunking over for the weekend, she'd come to Pavel's room to drop off some things for him to work on over the few days she'd be gone.

On the other side of the door, she heard a slight scuffling sound, as though she'd caught him off guard. There was a sound like a door slamming, and a bunch of crinkling sounds before he opened the door and let her in.

The first thing she noticed was the ants. They weren't exactly everywhere, but a group of them were congregating in the corner around something that looked like a discarded food item. There were wrappers on the floor. And that door slamming must have been that mini fridge staring her directly in the face from across the room. She looked at him for a few minutes, not quite believing the state of the place. Not that her room was much better, but at least she lived in relative cleanliness, if a bit cluttered.

He was turning red under her indicting stare, and she considered that to probably be a good thing. Maybe he'd clean up after she left. No, an even better idea. Putting the stack of paper she'd brought with her in his hands and ordering "Hold this," she did a clean sweep of the floor, brushed the ant pile into the wall vacuum, and started scouring under the bed for anything else.

"Zat isn't necessary – " he began awkwardly.

"Don't try to get on my good side by using English, young man," she called from under his bed, choosing to still use Russian. "I'm doing this because I'll feel better if you aren't living in a pigsty while I'm gone. Now shush and let me do my job."

"Young man? Aren't I older than you?"

"Pfft! You're older by what, _almost_ two years, Pavel? 'Young' is a generic term. And congratulations! Your bed is relatively clean." She straightened up and went back over to him, taking the paper and placing it on his desk. Catching the look in his eyes at the size of the stack, she smirked. "I don't expect you to do all of this…maybe just three quarters of it?"

He nodded. "I can do that."

As always, however, she could see clear as day when something else was on his mind, and she turned to face him, one hand on her hip in a sassy posture. "Okay, tell me what you're thinking. And don't even try to tell me you're not thinking. I can see the wheels turning in your head."

"Why will it make you feel better if my room is clean?" he asked. "Why do you care, exactly?"

It wasn't a negative comment, but a frank question, and Karina appreciated that. She thought about how to word her answer. It wasn't that complicated of one, but she didn't want to give him the wrong idea. Finally, she figured out her approach.

"Pavel, ever since we've met, you've spent so much time trying to be _my_ friend," she said. "I'm grateful for that, I really am. And I tried to put effort into you, but somehow, it just didn't seem enough to me, that interrogation thing we did. Then it occurred to me, what makes my other friendships so good? Probably the fact that I've always felt cared for. So this is me," she concluded, "taking care of you. I'm not saying this comes easy to me. Acts of service isn't exactly my love language. I'll explain that later," she said, waving off his confused look. "So I'm sorry if this doesn't happen all that often. But I just thought, maybe… That's what I should do, because I'm your friend. Do you get that?"

He frowned for a few minutes, and she was worried that everything she'd said had gone over his head, or that she'd only served to freak him out. When he finally spoke, however, Karina was half relieved, half irritated to find that most of what she'd said hadn't even registered.

"Love language?" he asked, utter confusion marking his face. Karina groaned and facepalmed.

"Very long explanation which I do not have time to go into at the moment, or else I'll miss my shuttle to New York and Camille will kill me. Anyway, here's some stuff to work on over the weekend. And…I guess I'll see you in a few days?" she finally broke off the conversation, still trying to remember if there was anything else to say.

He nodded. "Yeah. I guess you will."

They stood there in moderate awkwardness for a few minutes. Karina wondered if she should hug him, but for some reason the thought made her uncomfortable. Yet it wasn't unpleasantly uncomfortable, just… oh, she didn't know what she was thinking! Just that she was thinking it, and it definitely made hugging Pavel in this particular circumstance off-limits.

She'd been hesitating too long, evidently, because he looked as though he was expecting her to do something more than just say good-bye and leave. The tension in the room was palpable as both waited for the other to make the next move.

They both moved at the same time, Karina to open her mouth and say, "Well, bye then," and just escape the confounding situation, and Pavel, adorably awkward as ever, to hold his hand out in an attempt to shake hers.

The words had barely left Karina's lips before she broke out into a grin and shook her head in amusement, reaching out and accepting the handshake. "See you," she said, and with that, left the room.

Chekov watched her go, smiling after her. As soon as the door shut, he looked around the room. Well, this was the cleanest it had been in a year. Flopping down on the bed, he thought, _Maybe there are some advantages to having friends of the female persuasion_.

* * *

"So, Camille," her mom asked, after Karina and Camille's dad had retired to the living room. Karina had expressed a sudden interest at learning how to play chess, and General Osbourne was a master at the game. Camille had no clue where this desire of Kari's came from, but she figured it had something to do with the kid's ADD tendencies.

"Yeah, Mom?" Camille asked. She'd been heading after them, because watching her dad and Kari sass each other was nothing short of hilarious and precious.

"You and I really haven't had a chance to talk since you got home yesterday," Mrs. Osbourne said, patting the seat next to her at the table. "I mean, yes, we've talked, but always with your father and Karina around. I need some time with my girl. We only get you for a few days, you know."

Camille relented and took the chair. Now that it had been suggested, she realized just how much she would, in fact, like to have some one-on-one time with her mom.

"Tell me about how things have been going at the Academy, hon," Mrs. Osbourne asked. "Your letters have kept getting shorter and shorter. I just wasn't sure if everything was okay. I haven't heard anything about Bones and Jim in a while. How are things in that area?"

Camille shrugged. "Things are really okay, Mom. In every area. I mean, they're almost _too_ okay, if you know what I mean. I'm almost becoming domesticated. Nothing's happening, and I'm getting used to it."

"What does that mean, exactly?" her mom asked. "I mean, I'd assume nothing new is a good thing, right?"

"I guess so," Camille muttered. "I just feel…restless sometimes. There's no good battles to fight, you know? What is wrong with me, Mom? I feel restless when things are good, and then when things go to hell in a hand basket, I start to wish for the simpler times. Is that normal?"

Her mom seemed to calculate her answer. "Honestly, honey, I don't think that's necessarily _abnormal_. It's isn't good, either, but it's human. Almost no one is content where they are. You were born for excitement, sweetheart. As much as the idea of peace sounds great when you're in the middle of a fight, you thrive on adrenaline, kiddo. You're a junkie."

"So, basically, I need to go ask Bones for an adrenaline injection every once in a while?" Camille asked, smirking.

"Only if you want to kill something," her mom replied dryly. "And speaking of such… how is Bones, exactly?"

Camille groaned and leaned back in her chair, tipping her head back to stare at the ceiling. "So that's the real reason you wanted to talk, is it? I should have known."

"Hey, from what it sounds like, you're getting a taste of your own medicine here," Mrs. Osbourne teased. "Although just know that you aren't Karina, therefore you aren't going to be nearly as convincing when you tell me it's nothing. You can't hide anything if you wanted to, Camille Elizabeth. And I know you don't want to. Now read back over the letters you've sent me and tell me that there's nothing there for Bones."

Camille wasn't planning on hiding anything from her mother, but she knew that if it came down to it, there was no way she could ever hope to do so, just as Mom had said. She sighed.

"Bones is Bones," she said. "Infuriatingly stubborn. Insistent that I follow his medical instructions to the letter, even if I'm perfectly fine without them. In short," she concluded, smiling slightly, "I think he's fantastic."

Mrs. Osbourne grinned. "And how does he feel?"

"He definitely agrees. Referring to me, of course, not himself. Still working on him in that area. But I'm starting to get frustrated with the man. You know how you would read me those stories when I was little about Prince Charming riding up on the white horse?"

"I seem to recall those."

"Well, he's no Prince Charming, that's for sure. Not that I want one of those – SOOO overrated – but he could at least pick a faster mount than a flipping giant Galapagos tortoise!" Camille exploded in frustration.

" _Who's_ riding a tortoise?" came her dad's voice from the living room.

"Don't worry, General Osbourne," Karina responded. "She's just telling Mrs. Osbourne about Jim's new hobby. The guy gets into some weird crap, right?"

A pause, then her dad's uncertain voice: "I suppose so…"

Camille shook her head and turned back to her mother, who was nodding. "In other words, he's taking his sweet time about making a move, right?"

"Exactly! Mom, what is his deal? What is his problem? Am I not being completely obvious? Why hasn't he acted on this yet? I swear, Leonard McCoy can be the most infuriating, exasperating – "

"Just a thought, sweetheart," Mom interjected into the tirade. "How old are you?"

Camille frowned. "Nineteen."

"Right. Fairly recently, actually. How old is Bones?"

Camille lowered her eyes. "Almost twenty-eight."

"Now, from what I understand, Southern men have a certain sense of…propriety," her mom began.

"But Mom, he's from _Atlanta_! They can't be that old-fashioned!"

"First of all, don't interrupt me, young woman. Secondly, he's probably thinking of what people will think if he goes for a younger model than what he's gone after in the past. You see what I'm getting at here? Also, there's implications if a younger girl is dating an older man."

"Such as?" Camille asked, finding the whole topic thoroughly exhausting and wishing they could just go back to the lack of adventure since January.

"A gold digger, for one. Not that Bones has any monetary value to speak of, but people could still talk about you. And I consider that far more likely to be what he's thinking about in this situation, hon. Your…honor, I suppose," she finished lamely.

"But I don't care about… 'honor,' Mom," Camille said. "Can't he see that?"

"You may have to show him," Mrs. Osbourne said. "Notice how the princess in those stories never got up off her butt and tried to escape the tower on her own. If the prince – "

"Cowboy, Mom," Camille corrected. "He's the cowboy."

Mrs. Osbourne shrugged. "The cowboy, then," she amended. "If the cowboy isn't getting his crap together and looking for a faster steed, maybe the princess will have to do some rescuing of her own, huh?"

Sitting back in her chair as though to signal this topic was done with, Mrs. Osbourne lowered her voice and said, "Now, tell me about this boy Karina mentioned. What's up there?"

Camille grinned. "She's _claiming_ they're just friends. But at this point? I haven't met the kid yet, but I give it maybe two years."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen: In which Karina finds yet another tie to her past, the identities of our cryptic background characters are finally revealed, and Chekov receives a disturbing message.**

 **Since there is a significant lack of Camille, Jim, and Bones in this chap** **ter, I shall turn the next bits over to them! Enjoy!**

 **Jim: Hey, could you guys do me a favor and review browneyedgirl29? She loves it! Your reviews give her life!**

 **Bones: Actually, what would give her _life_ is not staying up till all hours reading fan fiction. **

**Camille: Bones, lay off the girl! She's reading about you. You should be flattered.**

 **Bones: Flattered? Frankly, I find the whole matter disturbing.**

 **Camille: ANYWAY, browneyedgirl29 doesn't own Star Trek. She only owns Kari and I. Though, can we discuss the nature of my being owned...?**

 **Bones: See? What did I tell you? This whole "reading into our lives," "ownership of specific characters" doesn't raise a few red flags with you?**

 **Camille & Jim: Ummmmmm... **

**Jim: (grabs hypospray and uses it on Bones for once) Okay. He's sedated for the duration of this chapter. Ignore him! Read! Read, good people, read!**

 **Camille: Do you even know what that was?**

 **Jim: Sure, it's harmless...right?**

 **Camille: (looks at the thing) Nope. This is deadly in excessive doses. Excuse us. READ!**

* * *

"I can't believe your name didn't click for me!" General Osbourne exclaimed. "Absolutely, of course! I remember Anthony and Linda. Good people."

Karina's head tilted to one side. "You knew them?" she asked, barely able to suppress her excitement. "What were they like?"

Osbourne shook his head. "I didn't know them well," he said. "But of course, MACO and the CIA had some dealings together in the past, all of which were before you were born. I knew he'd had a kid, but I never knew your name, much less whether you were a son or a daughter. Sad to hear of their deaths."

Karina was sure her disappointment was evident on her face. They'd began working on teaching her the fine art of chess, but it long since lay forgotten as General Osbourne had started conversation as well. He and his daughter were much alike in that area, not that Karina could claim she wasn't a chatterbox when she wanted to be. She guessed Pavel would just have to teach her when she got back, though she'd hoped to become some kind of master over the break and surprise him when she got back by completely decimating him in a match.

"So, you can't tell me anything more about the way they died?" she asked. "Or the people who killed them?"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, dear," he said. "I can only tell you that it almost started a war between the nations, namely Russia and practically the entire North American continent. We were prepared to battle over it, but it was only a few months after the end of an extended show of hostility by the Romulans. It didn't seem worth it when no other advancements were made. The Russian government insisted that it was an isolated incident, not sanctioned by them in the least, and the small branch of Starfleet stationed in Moscow also denied involvement. There wasn't much else we could do at that point."

Karina nodded. "Oh, well," she said, shrugging. "I didn't really expect anything more. Thanks for what you did tell me. I just don't understand how it's so easy to keep something like this secret. It seems like everyone but me knew about it."

"Well, it was a big deal at the time," he said. "But I don't see why the nuns couldn't tell you, unless it was for your own protection. Are you doing anything else to look into it?"

"Not really," she said. "I don't really have time. This assignment from Captain Pike has kept me pretty busy since I've been back at the Academy."

"Ah, yes," he said, looking, for the fifteenth time, as though he were ready to go back to their chess game, but then frowning and sitting back so he could look at her better. "The tutoring assignment, right?"

She nodded. "Teaching, mostly. I believe there's a difference."

"What did you say the boy's name was again?" General Osbourne asked.

Fervently praying he didn't have the same matchmaking tendencies as his daughter – and, for that matter, his wife – she replied, "His name's Pavel Chekov. Why do you ask?"

His frown deepened, and she somehow got the feeling he wasn't testing out the sound of "Karina Chekov" in his head. It halfway relieved her, halfway worried her.

"Chekov," he muttered. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

Karina felt her stomach swoop slightly. What was he getting at here?

Shaking his head, he said, "I suppose it's nothing. Has to be a common enough name among Russians, right? Which brings me to another question: How do you feel about a road trip tomorrow?"

Curious, Karina said, "Where would we be going? My willingness depends on that, I suppose."

"I appreciate your honesty, kiddo," he responded. "I was thinking we could drive you up to the abbey you grew up in. You could talk to the nuns, and see if they're more willing to give you information in person. Of course, there is the possibility that they actually have told you all they know. But, like you, I doubt it."

Karina grinned and threw her arms around the man. "I would love to!" she said. "What about Camille and Mrs. Osbourne? Have you talked to them about it?"

"Cam's all for it," he said. "But Tricia? I think she'll be staying here. She doesn't have much patience for traffic, and it'll be a madhouse on Thanksgiving weekend."

"I'm not sure Cam will be a big fan of the nuns," Karina said, the image amusing. "And they probably won't appreciate her trying to drag any more information out of her. I think she and Jim formed a reputation the past couple of months. Especially Jim."

"I'll make sure she behaves," Osbourne said, appearing as though he was actually going to get back to the game.

This time, however, Karina saw fit to be the distraction. "No offense, sir, but good luck there. I'm pretty sure no one's ever gotten Camille to behave in her life, right?"

A corner of his mouth quirked up. "Always knew you were a smart kid."

* * *

"So, when do you plan to make this trip over to America?" asked Vladimir. "The last time you mentioned it was a month ago. Have you not waited long enough, if I'm so bold as to inquire?"

"Boldness was what I always liked about you, Vlad. Don't overdo it," his friend said.

"Have you not waited long enough? I know it's important to you that this go smoothly, without any interference from Starfleet itself, or the American government for that matter, but it seems to me that the longer we wait, the more likely that is to occur."

"I have my reasons," the other said, his voice completely level, but his eyes speaking of a hidden inferno deep inside. For most people, that look compiled with that tone would equal stark terror, including the man's own children. However, Vladimir had been his partner for too long to be intimidated by it. They may be friends, but that meant little in this business. The one thing that was important was that his friend needed him, and that would serve to keep him alive for the moment.

True, he also had a long memory, but Vladimir didn't foresee getting out of his good graces any time soon.

"What are they, then? Answer me that!" he demanded. "Do you have some sick, sadistic need to be in control, so much so that you would risk our lives, our freedom for such a thing? You will prove nothing by this, man!"

He turned to go, then whirled back. "We can't control our children much longer, you know. They will leave us eventually, and we won't be able to stop them."

"Perhaps you can accept that, Vladimir, but I cannot. This is a prestigious line of work, and you know it's my desire that it be passed down to future generations," the other continued evenly.

"You have another child, you know. Pass it on to her heirs, if you so desire."

"The family name, however? Whether I like it or not, her family name will change one day. What do you think my purpose was in having a son in the first place, Vladimir?"

"You've got me. She always was your favorite. No wonder he ran away."

The other pushed to his feet. "You forget to whom you are speaking!"

"Last I checked, we were equals. You may be richer than I am, Andrei, but in this business, we are one and the same! Also…this is my house. So at this point, I believe I am well within my rights to tell you to get out and come back when you have a date for me."

Andrei Chekov rose to his feet, the fire in his eyes now evident in his tone as well. "I had a date, in case you were interested. January 1st. The New Year. Prepare yourself for a journey, Vladimir. Brief though it may be."

Andrei stalked out, leaving his friend standing in the center of the room, groaning in frustration.

"Stubborn kulack," he muttered, turning away from the door and not noticing his own son, Dimitri, peeking around the door. Dimitri, seeing that his father was occupied and figuring it probably not the best idea to question him on this matter – or, in fact, any matter – slunk off down the hallway.

Dimitri's mind was racing at one hundred miles per hour. He was no genius, but it didn't take one to figure out what was going on here. Andrei and his father were going after Pavel, and he needed to get word to his friend somehow. Dimitri was still looking for a way to get out from under the thumb of their fathers, no way was he letting Pavel get dragged back under it, too.

* * *

The message board had told him there was something for him in the mail room, which had Chekov a little concerned. He couldn't think of anyone who might be sending him a letter, except maybe Karina, but she was due back tomorrow and had only been gone for four days. Unless… no, he pushed that possibility to the back of his mind. There was no way after this long his past had caught up with him.

The "mail room" was actually a series of computers meant strictly for the purpose of sending letters. And letters weren't written on paper anymore, but rather a message that popped up on a screen. Just like everything else in this world. Chekov didn't really mind using paper for writing, but for one thing, he didn't write that much and for another, he guessed it had helped preserve a tiny patch of rainforest somewhere.

He tapped on the nearest computer's screen. A completely blue background popped up, and the computer's voice, in absolute monotone, said, "Authorization please."

Fortunately, it still accepted his code in Russian at this point. He really was not in the mood to translate into English. The homework Karina had given him over the weekend was the hardest she'd come up with so far – was it supposed to be a parting gift or something? "Here, I'll miss seeing you this weekend, run a few marathons with your brain!"

He could practically hear her saying it, too, in that overly cheerful tone she used when she knew she was giving him something unpleasant to do and enjoying herself far too much in the process. Shaking his head and realizing he was actually really looking forward to seeing her again tomorrow, he told the machine his authorization code.

To anyone observing from over his shoulder, it wouldn't have looked out of the ordinary, just rather short. But perhaps that was a…whatever language that was custom. There would have been no reason for his very visible reaction. It was just a single line of Russian characters, nothing out of the ordinary to someone who couldn't decipher it.

But as he read the message, Chekov's eyes widened and the blood drained out of his face. And considering the fact that he wasn't exactly tan to begin with, anyone passing by would possibly have expressed concern for his health. Fortunately – or unfortunately, the mail room was deserted but for him. Because the message, though rather vague, was nevertheless disconcerting.

 _Watch your back. You may think you're safe where you are, but you're not._


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen: In which we have a slightly angry Russian, in which said Russian and Karina are, once again, adorable cupcakes, and Camille and Jim plot.**

 **Jim: Well, I wouldn't call it plotting...**

 **browneyedgirl29: You're not telling Bones about it because he would flip. That's called plotting, James.**

 **Camille: She's got a point. Anyway, browneyedgirl29 owns nothing except her OCs! Enjoy! Review! PLEASE review! She loves those! Do the reviewing thing.**

 **Karina: Cam, they get the point.**

 **Bones: Wait, what are we not telling me?**

* * *

"Wait, what?" Karina asked, looking over the top of her reading glasses at her friend. Pavel had been in a rather sour mood ever since she'd gotten back yesterday, and she'd briefly wondered what was up before deciding to get back to business. "I'm not sure I heard you correctly."

"I said," he muttered as he gripped the paper in his hands, crinkling the places where he gripped too hard, "I have some complaints about the Standard language."

Karina frowned. "Okay, maybe I did hear you correctly." It seemed really out of character. What was he talking about, complaints? He'd been so compliant this entire time and he was complaining _now_ , when they were where most people got to in two years of learning?

Normally, Karina would have just shrugged it off as odd behavior, or maybe man-hormones, but today she was in a rather bad mood as well. The nuns had yielded no positive information anymore when she went straight to them rather than talking over the phone, but had rather staunchly even refused her entry to the abbey. When she'd demanded to see Reverend Mother, it had been a grim, taciturn woman who came to the door and told her that it was for her own good that they refused to tell her anything. Of course, Camille had opened her big mouth and started hurling insults at the sisters. That led to General Osbourne hauling both girls back to the car and lecturing his daughter on how rude she'd been and how she'd embarrassed him and Karina both. None of it had been pleasant.

So if Karina had a chance to vent that frustration a little bit, she would.

"What do you mean, you have complaints? It's a _language_ , Pavel, not a flipping customer service booth!" she growled. He seemed a little shocked by her short response, but nevertheless responded in kind.

"It makes no sense whatsoever," he grumbled.

"Well, maybe you could tell me what's been on your mind the past few months when you were picking it up at a completely indecent rate, then?" she demanded.

"Think about it, Karina!" he exploded. "You have three spellings of 'there,' three spellings of 'two,' and that 'i before e' rule never applies!"

"If you're tired of this, by all means, you can go ahead and walk out. I don't need you to get on the _Enterprise_! I'll get there on my own!" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Karina clapped a hand to her mouth, realizing how unfeeling she'd sounded. "I'm sorry," she said. "I – I didn't mean that."

But the damage was done. A glare worthy of one of Dante's circles of hell was etched on his face. Karina shrank back. This wasn't the Pavel she knew. What had she done to bring this out? Forcing herself to look beyond the pure anger in his eyes, which was not easy, she saw what was truly there, what the anger was masking: Hurt. And, for that matter, fear.

She didn't know what he was afraid of, but she imagined it had nothing to do with her. Because nothing in his expression said that he was afraid of her, although she knew the hurt had been caused by her.

Unfortunately, so was the anger, and it was a scary thing to be subject to.

"Pavel," she stammered, "I swear, I didn't mean – "

"I think you did," he said, his voice trembling with a mix of emotions. "Do you want to do this on your own? Fine. Evidently it's all about Karina right now."

He pushed out of his chair in one fluid movement and was across the room and to the door before she could blink. Rising just as quickly, and whirling, she called, "Come on! Don't run away from me now!"

Apparently she'd used the wrong choice of words. He paused in the doorway, his shoulders tense. Then, uttering a cry of frustration, he actually started running, quite literally. Karina sank back down into the chair and buried her head in her hands.

Once again, her careless tendency to speak without thought had gotten her nowhere.

* * *

Maybe it wasn't that running helped him think. Maybe it was that running helped him to purge himself of the tendency to overthink things. Either way, Chekov was mindlessly running around the track, again. And he was extremely grateful that no one but he and Sulu used this track, because he was pretty sure the sight of a cadet running around in full uniform was probably ridiculous.

Not that he particularly cared what people thought of him at the moment, but when he finally tired of running away from his problems – as Karina had so deftly put it – he probably would. Appearances were a big thing where he came from, and it was kind of hard to kill that particular insecurity after nearly sixteen years of it.

When he thought about it, if he could when losing himself to the feel of the ground pounding under his feet, that wasn't exactly what Karina had said. She hadn't said he was running away from his "problems," per se, just that he was running away from her. At the moment, he wasn't so sure they were different.

Not that Karina was a problem. Far from it, when she wasn't being venomous, she was one of his best friends, the first person who'd desired to pull him out of his shell here at Starfleet, but she would be a liability in certain situations. Such as if his past finally caught up with him. There was a reason he'd kept a low profile up until this year, a reason practically no one had even know Pavel Chekov existed.

He didn't want his decisions to hurt her.

What frustrated him and made him run even harder than before in the hope of venting that frustration was that his decisions hadn't even been bad ones. He'd done what was best for him, something he'd never been allowed to do in his life, or at least since his mother had died. And he barely remembered the time before that. He'd been a toddler at the time. Who would have thought that in this century, women still experienced complications in childbirth?

Jarred out of his thoughts by the fact that his lungs were suddenly burning, Chekov skidded to a stop, bent over double, and sucked in as much oxygen as humanly possible. Checking the clock on the side of the arena, he frowned. How had half an hour passed since he'd been in here? That couldn't be good for him. But once again, at the moment, he wasn't really thinking about that.

Another sight caught his attention, and he sighed in resignation when he saw that Karina was sitting off to the side, just kind of watching him. He started walking back around the track, knowing that he'd have to talk to her sooner or later anyway.

Even from this distance, he could see the regret on her face. Also, there was a definite amount of tear tracks on her face. It occurred to him he had never seen Karina cry before. Somehow, intuitively, he knew that of the pair of them, she was probably the crier. She just seemed like she normally pushed negative emotions to the side, because he'd only ever seen her happy. Since she'd dispensed with the professional façade, anyway. But maybe the overarching positivity was just a façade, too.

He also sensed that of the pair of them, he was the grudge holder. A bad habit, but something he'd picked up growing up in Russia. One of the few things his father had seen fit to teach him for that matter: to never forgive and never forget.

Karina, on the other hand, was looking like a lost puppy who just needed a little bit of sunshine right then. He didn't think he was great at the sunshine category, but he'd try.

Chekov didn't know what he'd expected, that she'd be falling on her knees and begging forgiveness, even though he'd started the matter. Actually, that was exactly what he'd expected. But all she did was look up at him, try to smile through her regret, and say, " _Privyet_."

He knew her well enough to know she was inwardly wincing at the inadequacy of her greeting. They'd just exploded at each other for no apparent reason, and all she could say was "Hi?"

However, he chose to respond tactfully. " _Privyet_."

He sat down next to her, and they both just stared straight ahead for a few moments. Karina finally broke the silence by saying, "So, Sulu told me I might find you here."

Chekov frowned at her. "How did you know to ask Sulu about that?"

She shrugged. "I happened to run into him. I was looking a little down, he's not an idiot. He asked what was up, I told him I thought I might have been an idiot. He's a good listener. Unfortunately, he's also really good at agreeing with you when you say you've behaved like an idiot. He doesn't sugarcoat a lot."

"Didn't strike me as the type," Chekov admitted. He figured Karina was strategically trying to lead up to what was actually going on. He wasn't going to tell her the truth, of course, even though he'd have expected nothing less from her. Some secrets were better left buried. So he decided to strike first.

"So, what was actually going on back there?" he asked. "You know, besides defending the English language?"

Karina gave a short, humorless laugh, shaking her head in annoyance at herself. "I don't know why I actually defended it. I agree. It's completely stupid. Why are there so many different spellings of one flipping word, right?"

"Different meanings," he responded without thinking. She gave him a look.

"Okay, good. I was beginning to get scared you were just acting like it came easy to you. Of course, I didn't believe it for a second. I just was under the impression you liked a challenge."

He shrugged. "Not quite sure about that one. You know I prefer to do things I'm good at."

"Do I?" she asked. "I still don't know all that much about you, you know."

Sadly, we need to keep it that way, he thought, then gestured around the track. "Well, for starters, I have a tendency to 'run away' from my problems."

She winced. "So that was why you reacted that way to my wording. Had I known…"

"But you didn't. It's okay, really," he said.

They lapsed into another silence. He wondered if she was going to address the elephant in the room, because he certainly wasn't. She began to speak, and he tensed. But it wasn't about the cause of what had gone down back there. It was something much more preferable.

"So, how fast are you?"

He sighed in relief and smiled, looking around the track. "Pretty fast," he replied. "Sulu thought I should run in the Starfleet marathon or something."

Karina's already big brown eyes widened, and she nodded emphatically. "You should! Why don't you?"

"Because, in case you haven't noticed, I don't like to draw attention to myself, Karina," he quipped, and she smiled.

"Now that I did know, though I'm still not sure why," she said. "Your choice, as always, but I still think you should."

"Why, exactly?"

Karina leveled a gaze at him that wouldn't let him go. Chekov temporarily lost the ability to breathe, then shook himself. Why was it that she had this effect on him? He couldn't figure it out! It was like he was caught in a whirlwind every time she was around. Her constant talk contrasted his quietness. She was the master of randomness, going from one place to another, sometimes making him feel left behind. But in her rare moments of seriousness, it was as though he'd just been spinning and suddenly stopped, feeling dizzy.

"You have a lot of potential that I don't think you realize," she told him. "Nor do a lot of other people. And I know this because I'm the same way. We're kids, Pavel. Kids in a world run by adults. I mean, that's how it is outside of Starfleet, too, but especially here in Starfleet, people are automatically going to underestimate us. So we need to prove ourselves worthy of their estimation. You get what I'm saying?"

He got it all too well. "You still don't know how fast I am, though," he said, a sly grin creeping onto his face. "How will you know if I could prove myself by running the marathon if you don't even know my ability?"

She hopped up off of the bench. "Race me," she said, lining up in front of the starting line.

Taken completely aback, he stared at her. "Now? Here?" he asked, gesturing at her uniform in a feeble bid for sensibility. "Are you absolutely sure about this?"

She looked down at herself and back up at him, petulant. "Really, Pavel, you think I can't run in a skirt? How do you think I did it all those times I rammed into you? Come on!"

When he hesitated, she gave him an attempt at puppy eyes. "It'll be fun," she said.

Sighing in resignation, he got up and joined her. "Crazy _Americanka_ ," he muttered. "Don't blame me if you end up getting left behind. Okay, on the count of three… THREE!"

Getting the last laugh was an immensely satisfying feeling, and one that was normally afforded to her. Unfortunately, he didn't exactly get to utilize his quick wit, what with the low profile act and everything. But he wasn't completely incapable of outsmarting her. He _was_ a certified genius, after all. And this time, he didn't mind irritating her. Leaving her in his dust was really what she should have expected.

She ran after him, not anywhere close to catching up, and yelled in mock anger, "You cheated! Pavel Andreievich Chekov, you totally cheated! Get back here, you little Russian punk!"

So he had a nickname too, now. And for the moment, any thought of the message he'd received the other day, or the unfounded argument they'd had, was forgotten.

* * *

"Jim, we need to talk," Camille said, striding into the room and taking a seat on his desk.

Jim, who had been sound asleep, sat up in bed, a pillow falling off of his bed in his haste to rise. Frowning sleepily, he said, "Lights." Camille blinked, temporarily blinded. "Cam, you do know it's the middle of the night, right? I happen to need a lot of sleep to look as good as I do."

"So you must be having a rough couple of nights, right?" she jabbed. "I need your help."

He swung his legs off of the bed, revealing that he slept less than fully clothed. Fortunately, he was decent enough to wear underwear. Camille threw a hand up in front of her eyes. "Jim! I did not need that image!"

"You do wonders for a guy's self-esteem, did you know?" he growled. "So before you insult me again, remind me why I should help you?"

"It'll be fun," she said. Jim leaned forward.

"I'm listening."

"Put on some freaking pants, man!"

"Sure, Bones," he said.

Camille groaned. "Why does everyone think I sound like Bones?"

"Maybe because you do," Jim shot back. "Anyway, spill."

"Pants first."

He stood, raising his hands in surrender, and then walked to his dresser. Pulling out a pair of jeans, he slipped them on and then turned to her. "Satisfied?"

"More than," she replied.

"Shall I put on a shirt as well, or are you okay with…all this?" he asked, gesturing to his well-muscled abdomen.

Shaking her head, thinking she might as well give him at least one self-confidence boost, she said, "Nope. We're all good there. So, what I need your help with… I'm bored. That's literally all it is. I'm just bored."

"The master of fun is at your service! So, what do you want to do? Prank Bones? Make Bones think we're dating and watch him squirm? Prank Kari?"

"Why is everything at someone else's expense? Although all of those do sound entertaining," she mused. "But you and I both know you could never pull a prank on Kari. She has you wrapped around her finger."

"And she'd follow me to the end of the earth, so it's completely balanced," Jim retorted. "It's all about balance and consistency, Cam. The secret to friendship with Jim Kirk."

"Actually, I was thinking: How do you feel about taking Kari out for her first drink after the New Year? Maybe as a celebration thereof?" Camille asked.

Jim mused. "She's underage…not that that's ever bugged me. I could go about getting her a fake ID, if need be. Or we could always take her to a bar that's lax on security."

Camille shook her head. "Those always have more bar fights, more guys getting grabby. I won't take her there. For one thing, you'll defend her to the death, for another, Bones will defend me to the death. Except he'll get more worked up over stupid things, things I can handle."

Jim smirked, and she glared at him. "Shut up!"

"I didn't say anything!"

"Whatever," she muttered. "So let's get back to more immediate matters. Pranking Bones sounded fun."

Jim's smirk lingered. He knew too well where this was going.

"I think, you just miss the action we had last year," he said. "I mean, that was pretty much a constant someone-was-in-mortal-danger thing. So you don't want more fun in your life. You want more adventure."

"How do you recommend I get that, Jim?" she demanded. "Fun seems like a more immediate solution." A normal person would have felt disconcerted by the devilish grin on Jim's face, but not Camille. To her, it spoke of the promise of a good time that might involve a little bit of danger. Well, hallelujah for that! She was in!

"I know a guy," he said, and she knew she was automatically ready for whatever he had to throw at her.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen: In which Bones and Camille have a bit more than a "domestic", (and if you are a Sherlock fan, PLEASE read that in Mrs. Hudson's voice!), there is more teenage awkwardness (because why not?), and much jumping out of planes.**

 **In other words: in which I screamed in frustration, cackled like a hyena, and then proceeded to laugh in a villainous manner. The things I do to these characters.**

 **Bones: I still blame you for everything.**

 **Reasonably, you should, sir.**

 **Bones: Damn right, I should. All right, browneyedgirl29 owns only her OCs. The rest of us are free men and women.**

 **Well...technically... Eh, we're not going to go there. Enjoy this one! I certainly did!**

* * *

"You're doing _what_?" Bones asked, his jaw completely dropping. Along with her discarded cast, which clattered out of his hands and onto the floor. Camille rolled her eyes, testing out the freedom her now-healed wrist felt.

"Relax, Bones," she said. "It's just skydiving. People do it with relative safety all the time."

"Would you mind explaining to me this death wish you appear to have, woman?" Bones exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I keep telling you, you're going to get yourself killed one day!"

"And since when did it become your business whether I lived or died?" Camille demanded, even while wishing she could bite her damned tongue. She wanted it to be his business. She just didn't want to have to answer to him for every potentially dangerous decision she made.

"Because I'm your doctor!" he repeated for the fifteenth time that week.

"Do you do this with your other patients, Bones?" she asked, her voice deadly in spite of its apparent evenness. Bones opened his mouth to respond, then shut it. The pair of them glared at each other for a moment. Camille, as usual, was the first one to relent. She sighed and stood, reaching out to him and taking his hand. If she wanted this to work one day, she needed to make it right, now.

"What's with us lately, Bones?" she asked. "All we ever do is argue. Consistently, that's all we do. And I know it's not me. So what's been going on? What put the burr under your saddle about me, cowboy? Answer me that question?"

He yanked his hand away from her. "Nothing," he said. "You're free to go. Enjoy the free use of your hand. Maybe you'll be able to successfully pull your chute tomorrow."

Glaring, Camille knew what she was about to do was immature, but anger was consuming her. She'd tried reaching out to him, and he'd rejected it! Of all the stubborn, selfish men! "Fine!" she exploded, stomping out of the room and making sure the door positively slammed behind her. The great thing about the automatic doors was that they had several settings. If one wanted to convey one's frustration by the slam of a door, that was a perfectly available option.

She utilized it a bit too often, according to Karina.

And Bones.

And Jim.

And her parents.

And everyone, now that she thought about it.

Camille didn't stop her quick-footed pace until she was in her room, at which point she slammed another door, and then flung herself down on her bed. She beat the pillow in frustration a couple of times, imagining Bones' face. She couldn't recall being this angry at him since – well, since they'd first met and she'd hated the man.

Glad Karina was having her English sessions with that Chekov kid at the moment, Camille continued her beating of the downy decoration and screamed into it a couple of times. She wanted this to work, wanted it really badly. But Bones' insistence that she stay safe at all costs was insufferable!

Camille needed independence in a relationship, the knowledge that she was alpha of her own life. And Bones, unfortunately, was also an alpha in _his_ own life, with a protective streak a mile wide. With a sinking heart, Camille realized she had one of those, too. How would they make anything like that work? Didn't relationships need some balance?

She wondered briefly if he looked at her recklessness as a lack of appreciation for all he'd done for her medically. It wasn't the case at all, in fact. She owed her life several times over to Bones, and she wanted so desperately for him to know that. But if he never let her in, if he never let her express that, she couldn't be in a relationship like that. It would eat away at her slowly.

Camille was too independent for Bones, and he needed someone to depend on him. He needed someone who needed him. Camille wasn't quite sure she did. She didn't need anyone. When it came right down to it, she realized that it was mostly that she and Bones were just too alike for anything to work out.

* * *

Karina walked in later to find Camille staring straight up at the ceiling, her mouth set in a firm line, her eyes hard and unfeeling. That was Karina's first tip that she was in a foul mood, but when she didn't even look up and comment on Karina's sweaty face and her disheveled hair, results of her run at the track, that was when Karina knew it was best to camp out somewhere else for the night.

Grabbing her pajamas and anything she'd need for the night, Karina didn't even bother speaking to Camille, who didn't seem to mind. That was the thing about Cam. When she was silent, she was either upset or just one hundred percent did not care. And right now, Karina was willing to bet it was both. She'd try again tomorrow – perhaps after Cam and Jim got back from their crazy skydiving escapade. Karina shuddered. What they saw in flinging themselves out of a shuttle and hurtling toward the hard earth below, she had no idea. She couldn't even bring herself to go watch. No, she was perfectly content to bug Bones all day tomorrow.

She mentally ran over a list of who she could stay with. Automatically, her mind went to any other females she could stay with besides Camille. There was Juliet, but she was better friends with Cam, and would want to know what was up. Besides, Karina wasn't all that comfortable with asking favors of those she didn't know very well.

A month ago, she might have considered going to Uhura, but now, that thought was laughable. The older cadet seemed to sense a coldness off of Karina ever since that day they'd been partnered, and the rivalry was returned full force. To show up on her doorstep asking for a place to stay was something Karina would never stoop to.

Nope, there was nothing for it. She'd have to stay with one of the guys.

But the fact of the matter was, she didn't want either of them questioning Cam on the matter, because that would just put her in an even worse mood – and then what could Karina get out of her? Not a whole heck of a lot.

Plus, there was also the fact that she was terrified of walking into Jim's room at this time of night, not knowing what kind of female friend she might run into. Also, she preferred Jim with his pants on. And something told her Camille's foul mood had something to do with Bones.

Crap. Where could she go now?

A thought occurred to her. She wondered why she hadn't gone there sooner.

She made her way through the hallways, across the compound, to the outer buildings that housed the overflow cadets. Finally reaching her destination, she knocked on the door…and immediately rethought this decision. People were more likely to find this suspicious than her knocking on Bones' door, right? Maybe she should just turn around and head back. Bunking with Cam had to be better than giving anyone any ideas –

Too late. The door slid open.

The first thing she noticed was that Pavel's hair was wet. He must have just gotten out of the shower after their run. Not that she blamed him, showering actually had been first on her to-do list when she'd gotten back to her room, but Cam had put a damper on that.

Then she noticed that he was shirtless. With his shirt on, he looked fairly lean, and he still was with it off, but Karina could see that there were at least a small set of abdomen muscles there. She blinked, hoping she wasn't staring.

As her eyes continued to drop, she then saw that the only thing he was wearing was a towel wrapped around his waist.

It seemed like she'd had a while to take all of this in, but it must have only been a split second, because she jumped and whirled around, shrieking, "Oh, dear lord!" She had just enough time to see his eyes widen and face flare up red before he cried, "Whoa!" and fumbled for the door switch. She heard the sound of something fabric falling to the ground and realized with horror that he'd dropped his towel in shock.

"Oh, gosh!" she groaned, burying her eyes in her hand, in spite of the fact that she was facing the opposite direction. "Just…let me in when you have clothes on, okay?"

When the door slid shut, she assumed he'd heard. Whether he'd let her back in before he died of embarrassment was another matter entirely.

Meanwhile, inside, Chekov moved so quickly for his dresser and actual clothing that he ran into a table. Pain shot up his toe. Going from a run to a hop, he continued his trek to the dresser, letting off a string of very strong Russian profanities. _For the love of Mother Russia, what is she doing here at this time of night?_ he wondered disgruntledly.

Exactly sixty seconds later, the door slid open to reveal Karina still with her back turned to the door. She asked, disgust still evident in her voice, "Is it safe, or will I be permanently scarred if I turn around?"

This girl did wonders for a guy's self-esteem, that was for sure. Maybe he had let himself go a little recently. Okay, maybe for his entire life – minus the running. Doing some ab work might be a good idea.

"I think you're okay," he said, rather stinging from that last comment. However, she laid any insecurities he had to rest when she turned around, tilted her head as though intrigued, and, to his great shock, started staring at his abs! Chekov felt his face turn bright red – again.

"Huh," she said. "I was beginning to wonder if there actually was anything under that uniform. Not bad."

She walked in and placed her things on the extra bed in his room, which was at the moment, unoccupied. His acceptance into Starfleet had been rather last minute, but then again, so had his application. He assumed he'd been one of the last to enlist, because though he was in overflow, he had no roommate. It had been good in some ways, and bad in others.

But at the moment, Chekov couldn't figure out for the life of him why Karina was here…at nine o'clock at night.

She turned to look at him. "Now, are you done in there, or can I shower, too? In case you hadn't noticed, I'm still suffering the effects of our little exercise session there."

He gestured to the bathroom. "Um, no. Go ahead."

She practically flounced into the bathroom and slid the door shut behind her, leaving Chekov behind, wondering what the heck had just happened.

Karina, in the bathroom, slid up against the door, blowing her hair out of her face. Putting the lock on the door, she prepared herself for the shower. Luckily, she'd remembered to bring her pajamas along with her, because the last thing today needed was Pavel to see _her_ in only a towel, as well.

Okay. That hadn't been the most graceful of entrances, but in her defense, she was planning on explaining why she was invading his room for the night, before he'd basically flashed her. Or came close to it. After that, there really was no way to ask if she could bunk here for the night without making things even more awkward.

She finished up in the bathroom and went back out into the main room. It looked surprisingly empty without all the trash on the floor – though she did feel good that he'd attempted to keep her finished work up. Other than that, there wasn't much in the room besides a pair of beds, a desk, and, the one sign of comfort, a beanbag chair, which Pavel was currently sprawled in, a bemused look still resting on his face.

"Karina, not that I'm not pleased to see you – okay, I wasn't a while ago, but that was…well, you know…" He trailed off, blushing profusely again, and she gestured that he was getting off subject and needed to go on.

"But, what are you doing here?"

"Well, Camille, my roommate, is in a pretty bad mood. Rather than stick around and risk falling prey to it, I decided to bunk somewhere else. That a decent enough explanation?" she asked.

He looked confused for a second. "Wait. So I was the first person you thought of?"

A look of discomfort passed over her face. "Well, no," she said. "Truthfully, not. I'd just rather stay with you than any of the others."

He smiled. Any hint of lowered self-esteem she'd inflicted with that comment about being scarred had just dissipated. Chekov had seen Karina around when they weren't working on English, and he knew she had a few friends besides him and Camille. And though he supposed it made sense that she'd rather hang out with someone her own age, he knew she was pretty close to at least one of the older male cadets she was with quite frequently. What was it she'd called him? Jim?

But of all her options, she'd chosen to come to him. That must mean he rated pretty high on her list of friends.

What pained him was that he knew this wasn't going to last long. After that message, his days at Starfleet were numbered. Though he wouldn't leave until he knew whether something was up – after all, he'd be eighteen in a year, and who would come after him while he was off planet? – if his past caught up to him soon, he wasn't sticking around long enough to shake the dust of San Francisco from his feet.

"This is okay, right?" Karina asked, bringing him out of his thoughts rather abruptly.

"Of course it's okay!" he responded, then bit his tongue, wondering if he sounded a bit too eager. He moved down to the floor. "Here, do you want the chair?"

Karina considered. She adored beanbag chairs, but she also hated being an inconvenience. "No, that's fine," she said. "I can sit on the floor."

Chekov wasn't quite finished insisting yet. He patted the chair, saying, "I'm nothing if not a gentleman. Come on, take the chair."

"And I'm nothing if not stubborn. If you want to sit on the floor, we'll both be sitting on the floor." She plopped down directly in front of him. They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither one daring to break it.

Finally, he asked, "So, are you ready to go to bed?"

"Nope."

"Yeah, me either."

She glanced around the room. "So, what do you want to do in the meanwhile? I mean, once again, this 'having a friend my own age' thing is kind of new to me, but I'm told when they hang out outside of normal activities like school, they don't just sit around staring at each other."

Chekov for some odd reason wanted to ask if she was complaining about the view, then bit it back. Where had _that_ come from?

Karina was rummaging through his desk drawers. Anyone else, it might have bugged him, but she just felt like she fit right into this room. Besides, there wasn't anything in there that was hazardous in any way. Or valuable, for that matter.

She produced a box from his bottom drawer. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was his chess set.

"So, I tried to get Camille's dad to show me how this works when I was in New York last weekend," Karina muttered. "Turns out he's a great talker, but that kind of gets in the way of his being a good teacher. So I'm still pretty clueless when it comes to the game of kings." Almost shyly, she held the box out to him. "Teach me?"

He took it, a grin spreading over his face. So the master was becoming the pupil, at last.

* * *

Camille rose early the next morning. Normally, she wasn't all that much of an early bird, in fact, she was downright a night owl. But today she was determined she'd make the most of every minute.

Because though she was born to fly, she imagined jumping out of a plane 30,000 feet above the ground would feel much more like falling.

Jim had probably rolled his eyes when she insisted on meeting outside of the clinic. She knew he would have preferred to avoid any conflict between herself and Bones, but she was raring to show that arrogant, controlling Southerner just how much she didn't need his protection.

She stood squarely across from the doorway, staring the clinic down, daring Bones to comment. He knew she was there, of course. But he only chose to show himself when Jim showed up.

"Well, it's been nice knowing you, Bones," Jim attempted at humor.

"Whatever, Jim. Let me know if you intend on becoming a splat on the ground right now so I can get used to the idea," Bones growled. His eyes fell on Camille. She thought she saw them soften for a moment, then the hardness came back. Stubborn man. "Try not to kill yourselves, okay? I doubt I can handle Karina's tendency to attract trouble on my own."

"I hear my name?" Karina's voice sounded from down the hallway, and she hurried up to them. She obviously hadn't even tried to bother with making herself presentable this morning. Her evident bedhead was going in every possible direction, and her eyes still had sleep in the corners of them. Idly, Camille noted she was still in her pajamas. Normally, that would have been a serious offense in the hallways, but it was a Saturday. Bones had worked night shift, it was the only reason he was even in the clinic.

"Oh, well," Karina said, shrugging it off effortlessly. "Have fun, you two. Don't die. And make sure your chute works! I hear those things can expand just fine, but then once they're up, break off! And then you're basically dead."

Jim snorted. "Come on, Kari. That's ridiculous!"

She shrugged. "Just try not to die, Jim. Having you both come back in one piece would be nice"

The two adventurers made their way down the hallway, and Karina turned back to Bones. "So, what's on the agenda for today?"

Bones raised an eyebrow. "There's an agenda?"

"I would assume so," she replied, breezing right on by as though the utter lack of enthusiasm in his voice hadn't been obvious. It wasn't as though Bones didn't like Karina, he did. It was just that when it came down to it, she wasn't loud, she just…was a bit chatty for his taste. But the kid was endearing, he'd admit that.

All right, if she wanted him to entertain her, he would. That was at least something to take his mind off Camille. Bones couldn't quite explain why he was being so cold to her. Perhaps it was because she seemed to wordlessly demand something from him that he wasn't quite sure he was ready to give. Did he want to give it? Yes. But he wasn't about to jump into something if he wasn't sure. There was no point in leading her on otherwise, either.

However, something to do was a thing he could, for certain, give Karina. He eyed her up and down. "Well, for starters, are you going to put on some decent clothes?"

Karina looked down at her attire. It was as though she'd forgotten she'd only been clad in pajamas for a brief few seconds.

"Huh. Yeah, I guess. I'll be by your place in ten minutes, then?" she asked, headed down the corridor.

"Sounds like a plan," Bones called, then turned back toward his apartment. Hopefully this would give him some time to come up with an idea, provided Karina didn't come up with something first.

* * *

Jim made sure Camille was strapped to him tightly enough that she would feel secure without having her breathing restricted. As they'd taken off, she'd looked less and less sure about this venture, but when she'd heard that due to his experience in skydiving, she'd be jumping strapped to him, she'd turned positively sheet white.

"Oh, relax, Cam," he said. "Would you rather be strapped to someone you didn't know or be on your own? Answer me that."

She swallowed, her eyes the size of small dinner plates in her head. "You, I guess."

"You _guess_?" Jim demanded. It occurred to him that most of the time he, Cam, and Bones were together, they tended to split into pairs, either the girls in one or Camille with Bones, leaving him with Karina. So while he'd had the opportunity to feel that trust vibe from Kari over and over, Cam had never been in a situation where she'd needed to trust him. He'd gotten used to that feeling of being innately trusted, and it kind of stung now that he wasn't receiving it.

Shaking it off, he leaned down to her ear, shouting over the roar of the wind sliding by the open hatch. "You ready for this?"

She started shaking her head vigorously. "Not really!"

"Great!" he shouted. "On three…one… THREE!"

He leapt from the plane, the sound of Camille's scream coming back to him over the roar of the wind.

"Geez, Cam, you have some serious pipes!"

"I can't hear you!"

"What?"

She let out another scream as they continued to plummet toward the earth 30,000 feet below.


	17. Chapter 17

**Hmmm. No reviews on the last one. Okay... I understand you guys are probably busy. Just remember, these things motivate me! They give me life! LIFE, I TELL YOU! (Basically, please continue reviewing! I promise you, I love them!)**

 **Chapter Seventeen: In which we have mostly filler fluff. Karina and Bones bond, Camille has a moment of self-discovery after plummeting 20,000 feet through the air, and all is well on the McCoy-Osbourne front.**

 **Once again, I apologize for the relative shortness of the chapter, and for the amount of filler fluff, but I promise, we'll get back to a bit more action in Chapter Eighteen! We're on the downhill swing from here. At this point, we've got eight chapters and an epilogue, so action will pick up from here on out!**

 **Enjoy!**

 **I do not own Star Trek or its characters. I only own my OCs.**

* * *

Karina's face screwed up in mild pain, but she didn't want to insult Bones by asking him to stop. He'd noticed she was favoring her left shoulder, and offered to get the kink out. Figuring the man was a doctor and knew what he was talking about, she'd accepted the offer with gratitude. But while it was certainly working, he was definitely not the most gentle of masseuses. And Karina, though she hated to admit it, could be a bit of a delicate flower physically.

"Ow," she muttered under her breath. Apparently it was louder than she'd anticipated, because he stopped in his tracks and looked down at her.

"What part of that hurt?" he asked, concerned.

Not even attempting to sugarcoat it anymore, Karina replied, "All of it."

He sighed and retracted his hands, coming around and sitting next to her on the couch. They'd been in his room for the past fifteen minutes, after about another half hour of awkwardly making small talk and, on Karina's part anyway, being bored out of her mind. She didn't know what it was that made the doctor get along so well with Camille and not her. It rather bugged her, but not because she particularly had issue when people didn't like her. It just made her curious.

"Can I ask you a question?" he said out of the blue, and she started, frowning.

"Um, sure," she said, vaguely wondering where this was going. "Shoot."

"Do you think two people, who both tend to be the alpha personality, could make something work between the pair of them?" Bones winced as soon as he'd finished, as though this conversation made him more uncomfortable than anything he'd ever experienced. Karina wasn't particularly comfortable with it, but hey, Bones was asking her advice. He never did that with anyone younger than him – for that matter, with anyone at all. This would at least end interestingly, if nothing else.

"Well, I think it depends on the person," she replied. Only a little offended when he settled back in his chair, everything about his actions stating, Might as well get comfortable, I'll be here a while, she rolled her eyes and continued. "If one of them is fiercely protective, for example, and the other one considers her independence to be very important, doesn't think she needs to be protected, ever, that could be a deciding factor."

Bones frowned for a second, and Karina smiled to herself, knowing he saw the connection between himself and Camille in what she'd just said. She hoped she'd utilized her tone correctly so he wouldn't know that had been on purpose. When he didn't say anything, she knew he hadn't. Perhaps she was getting better at this subtlety thing. That would probably be useful in her future as a Communications officer.

"Or say she doesn't like having things done for her, and that's how he expresses love," she said. "His love language."

Bones' frown deepened. "Love language?"

Karina threw her hands up in the air. "Have men seriously never heard of this concept? Oy! It's the way you express love, Bones. I thought that would be quite clear."

Bones recoiled a bit, not sure if he'd offended yet another female, but, bafflingly, Karina was back on an even keel just as soon as she'd exploded. He wasn't a psychiatrist, but sometimes he wondered if the girl shouldn't get checked for some sort of mood disorder or other.

"And say she likes to pick a fight, say that's almost her way of flirting, testing his mettle. But he tends to dislike conflict, unless it's on his terms, so he takes offense every time she tries. They might have some communication issues in that area, yes?" she broke off, waiting for an answer, though he was pretty sure the question was rhetorical.

"You're the expert in communications," he acquiesced, giving her one of his rare smiles. She returned it in kind.

"I suppose so. But I don't see why those aren't overcomable obstacles. Because once the pair of them figure out how to work around it, I think they're both strong enough to do so, for each other. You dig where I'm coming from, Bones?"

He nodded, eyeing her with a look she couldn't quite figure out.

"How old are you, Karina?"

"Fifteen. Why?"

He shook his head and laughed under his breath. "Remind me never to ask anyone that question again. How do you know so much about this?"

She shrugged. "I observe. And I think about what I observe. Really, that's it. So if you end up taking my advice and ruining your life, please don't sneak into my room and inject me with Vulcan blood fever vaccine?"

He nodded, now only half-smiling, but still smiling, so she took that as a good sign. "You got it, kid." He was still giving her that look though, as though he were trying to probe into her soul.

"Is there a reason you're sizing me up like the prize hog at the county fair?" she asked.

The slight smile disappeared, and the frown returned, but it held no terrors for Karina. Bones smiling for too long was almost terrifying. This was comfortable.

"You've been hanging around Camille for far too long," he growled. "She's rubbing off on you with those country comparisons. I was just wondering… how do you feel about kids?"

Karina's eyes widened. "Um, Bones…what are you getting at here?"

"Dammit, girl, that's not what I meant!" Bones shook his head, trying to find the right words for this. "I just meant…okay. I have a daughter, right?"

"I knew that, yeah."

"So, she's living with my parents at the moment. But I've been thinking about bringing her here to San Francisco. No telling what my father's poisoned her mind with about me at this point, or my brother. Anyway, I won't always be around to keep an eye on her. I was wondering if…"

Karina's jaw dropped. "Oh, my word. You want me to babysit her, don't you?"

Bones threw his hands up as though defending himself. "It's not a for sure thing yet! It probably wouldn't be for at least another year or so. Not until I'm out of the Academy and have an apartment. And even then, I'll need someone who's on planet to watch her while I'm off. But when we're on Earth…" His voice trailed off again. Karina sensed the desperation in his tone. It bemused her that he'd never talked about his child, yet there was so much longing there. He did love the kid, in spite of the fact that he'd left her for more than a year.

"I'd be glad to, Bones," she said. "Just call me up whenever you need someone. And I think bringing her here's a great idea. A girl shouldn't grow up without either of her parents. Take it from someone who knows."

Bones half smiled at her again. "Thanks."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before he asked, "So, how is that going, by the way?"

Karina groaned. "Ugh! I don't think I'll ever get the answers I need here, Bones. It seems like every time I have a breakthrough, another wall goes up. I don't know what to do here."

He hesitated, then said, "You know, I'm a pretty stubborn guy. But I'm not overly fond of worrying at something until it drives me mad. I've seen what mental stress can do to people. I'm a doctor, you know. And, I personally think that you should be at your best, physically and mentally, for Starfleet. Maybe you'll be on leave one day and then you can figure it out. But until you graduate… I wouldn't blame you for just letting it go."

"Really?" she asked.

"Of course not! No sense in driving yourself crazy over something you can't control."

Karina smiled, then asked, "Randomly, what's her name, Bones? Your daughter, I mean?"

He smiled, another of those rare, genuine ones, and Karina's heart warmed at the evident love in his voice when he said, "Joanna. Her name's Joanna."

"Joanna McCoy," Karina said. "I'll look forward to meeting her. On that happy note, we've talked for too long. Let's actually do something." She got up and started rummaging through his desk drawers. Bones shot to his feet, uncomfortable. He hated it when people touched his stuff without asking, but something about Karina made him stop before exploding. She called from where her head was buried in his bottom drawer, "Do you have chess or anything? I'm learning, and I want to practice."

Bones, fervently hoping he would know how to handle Joanna better than this when she reached the teenage years, said, "Keep looking, you'll find it."

Frowning, he asked, "Wait. You asked if men had no concept of the idea of love languages. Who have you asked about it besides me?"

"None of your business, thank you. Now where is that blasted chess set?"

* * *

Camille had gone through eighteen years of never knowing when the air was going to be stolen from her lungs. So she knew how to appreciate the substance.

However, masses of it speeding by her faster than light was a bit disconcerting. She didn't need this much air to take a breath in. No one ever needed this much air at one time. And they especially didn't need it while they were plummeting toward what was sure to be their imminent death.

She'd stopped screaming a while back, disliking the unpleasant sensation of air streaming into her open mouth at top speed. Jim, meanwhile, on top of her, was clearly having the time of his life, whooping and hollering and irritating the crap out of her.

What was this? She was an adrenaline junkie, and heights held no fear for her. Why did she find this so utterly terrifying?

Maybe because she realized, here at 20,000 feet when Jim finally pulled the chute and they shot upward just slightly, then started floating peacefully downward at a reasonable pace, that it would never be enough. Just constant physical thrills. It would never be enough. She needed emotional thrill, mental thrill as well.

She loved to hunt but hated to chase. She liked to be chased herself, but maybe that wasn't good enough at this point in time.

Instead of expecting Bones to bend to her needs and compensate for her in a relationship, maybe she should start meeting him where he was. Bones, it sounded like, had never had anyone chasing after him, proving they meant business with him and that he was worth it. It was high time someone did.

* * *

"I suck at this game," Karina muttered, staring at the board. They were on their fifth round, and she and Bones had settled into an easier, companionable set of interactions. He, however, was proving to be not quite an expert, but fairly adept at the task in front of him.

"Ah, you're a beginner," he said. "What brought this sudden desire to learn to play chess about?"

She shrugged. "I know people."

After a moment of silence, while he waited to see if she would deign to elaborate for him, he said, "You do know that that was extremely vague and, for that matter, made no sense with the question itself?"

Fortunately for Karina, her communicator beeped at that moment. "Huh. Cam and Jim are back. They're headed this way."

Bones moved his rook. "Checkmate."

Karina glared at the board. "This is bloody impossible."

The door burst open at that point, and Camille raced in, her eyes wild and hair flying. Jim was following behind her, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. Camille turned to Bones, looking as though she were debating what she should say, and then the words tumbled out of her like molten lava.

"I should have listened to you. That was terrifying."

Karina's jaw dropped. "You mean to tell me the girl who was born to fly hated skydiving? Someone get me this in writing!"

Camille leveled a glare at her. "I will not be sassed in this instant," she growled. "And that was not flying, that was falling to your death!"

"With style," Jim protested.

"Can it, Lieutenant Harebrain!" Camille shot at him, then fell down on the floor next to Bones' stool. She rested her head on the table where the chess set was parked, and looked up at him. "Basically, you're right. You're always right, I know that. Why don't I listen to you more often, is the question."

Bones could have rubbed it in. She was admitting he was right where she was wrong. This almost never happened. Camille Osbourne seemed to be infallible in her own eyes, and he knew this couldn't have been easy for her. Which was the very reason why he elected to not rub it in. That communication concept Karina had mentioned.

He looked up at the girl in question. She half-smiled, as though approving his decision to not speak. Satisfied, he glanced back at Camille and gestured to the table in front of him. "Chess?"

Rolling her eyes, she moved to sit in front of him and began resetting their side of the board. He watched her move expertly first against Karina, then against Jim, who was giving the younger girl a few pointers, and when Camille came back to lean against his legs, he didn't complain. All was well on the Osbourne front.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen: In which Spock returns, Christmas comes and goes, we meet another Chekov, and both Camille and Jim make...interesting propositions to Bones.**

 **Three things: One, keep in mind that I probably paint Spock in a very bad light in this chapter. That is Karina's POV, therefore he's going to come across as a much more illogical, pompous twat than I actually believe he is. Disclaimer. I love you, Mr. Spock.**

 **Two, I hope you like Chekov's sister... Because she's fabulous, and though this is the only time she comes in in this installment, she'll be back later. :)**

 **Three, some of you have been requesting more Bones and Camille. I apologize for the lack of them in the past few chapters, but just because I've been focusing on Chekov and Karina (whom, by the way, I'm officially giving you all permission to openly ship, because who am I kidding?) does not mean I've forgotten them! You get a bit of them in this one - but mostly Jim and Bones _about_ Camille, which gets pretty epic in the long run. However, as of Tuesday night, I will be on Thanksgiving break, so I'll have a bit more time to write for... you guessed it! Companion One-Shots! (I really must rename that...) At this point, my plan is to rewrite "How Long?" from Bones' point of view, and I have a bit more adorable fluff planned, as well. Feel free to prompt me, though. (And for those of you loving the idea of Chekov and Karina, I will take some prompting there, if you wish, but for the sake of your longings for McBourne, those are the only ones I'll write on my own.) **

**Over to James T. Kirk...**

 **Jim: She owns nothing. Well, she owns Cam and Kari, which quite frankly makes us all a bit uncomfortable, but Bones, Chekov, and I, along with anyone else you may see, are not hers! Meanwhile, enjoy my brilliant matchmaking skills.**

 **Cam: It wasn't nearly as smooth as you thought it was...**

 **Jim: Well, Bones fell for it.**

 **browneyedgirl29: Oy. Just enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

"Cadet Bartowski," came Spock's voice from the front of the room. "May I see you for a moment?"

Taking a deep breath and curbing her temper, she obeyed his request, which, let's be honest, was all but a command from Spock as far as she was concerned. As soon as she reached him, making sure her tone was perfectly even, she said, "Yes, Commander?"

"I wish to inquire as to how your attempt at teaching Cadet Chekov the Standard language is progressing."

Karina bit back her automatic response, which was to call him out on his obvious favoritism, accuse him of only asking her this because he wanted to see her fail and Uhura succeed, rail him out and speak of how, for being a Vulcan, he was rather emotional when it came to his girlfriend, now wasn't he?

Instead, she cleared her throat, and said, "It's coming along very well, sir. We've progressed past where most normal people are by their second year."

"Are you sure that will be satisfactory?" the commander asked, and Karina stilled her hands, which were aching to throttle the man for his façade of complete logic. However, she'd already been cited for sassing an instructor once, and she did not care to get written up for the same offense twice. Another offense, perhaps, but the same one twice? Never. If there was one thing Karina Bartowski prided herself on, it was learning from her mistakes.

"I'm confident in myself, and in Cadet Chekov, as well, sir," she said. "Was there anything else you wished to ask?"

He frowned. "Are you attempting to dismiss me, your superior officer, Cadet?"

"Not at all, sir. I was merely inquiring as to your intent in calling me up here. Surely that couldn't be all it was." Dang! She was getting good at imitating his cool, logical tone. Even Spock looked mildly impressed for a moment. How was it that one single expression, the raised brow, could indicate so many emotions?

"That will be all, Cadet. You may return to your task."

Karina couldn't help but feel a sense of victory. For some odd reason, it seemed that she'd scored a verbal victory on Spock, though she didn't regard anything she'd said as particularly witty. Merry Christmas to her!

For it was the last day of class before winter hiatus. And as always, she was going to Camille's for the first week, for Christmas itself, then they'd go to Jim's mom's house for a week. They'd be back in time for New Year's, at which point Cam said she had a surprise in mind for her. Karina was big on surprises, of course, but anytime Cam and Jim got together for something, it was sure to be terrifying – albeit awesome.

She vaguely wondered what would happen to Bones if the three of them ever sprung something on him. They were, after all, the "fun" ones.

* * *

"You're completely _sure_ that you're okay staying here?" she asked for the umpteenth time. "I mean, it's Christmas, Pavel! And you don't have anyone you'd be spending it with…besides me. And I'll be in New York."

He smiled. It was kind of nice having someone worry about him for once. He couldn't remember the last time that had happened. It wasn't as though he hadn't had people he'd cared about back in Russia. There was Dimitri, and his sister, but he'd always been the one taking care of them – as much as Dimitri denied he needed to be taken care of.

So having Karina worry about him made him feel good, if a little bit guilty that he was causing her concern.

"I'll be fine," he reassured her, pushing her toward the door. She'd come to his room thirty minutes before she was supposed to leave to catch the shuttle to New York City, claiming that she wasn't going anywhere unless she was absolutely certain he was okay for the two weeks.

In all honesty, he wasn't sure if he was. Last time, it had only been a weekend. This time, it was two weeks. And even though he'd only been interacting with one person, technically, he also was getting used to it. But he wasn't about to let her give up the holidays with her other friends, the ones she'd had first and therefore probably had more seniority than him when it came to her time.

No, he'd let her go this time.

But, of course, he'd be really glad when she got back. It would be a long wait without his best friend there.

He frowned slightly as the thought entered his head. Had she really earned that title already, dethroning Dimitri so quickly? Who was he kidding, of course she had! He and Dimitri had been friends, they were very much alike and so got along incredibly well, but while he and Karina certainly had their differences, those just enhanced the friendship.

It was kind of like puzzle pieces, he guessed. If they were identical, they didn't have the capacity to fit together. But the differences were what made them click.

Unfortunately, Karina saw the tiny frown, because she got that determined look on her face and planted herself firmly in the doorway. "Oh, crap. You're not actually fine. You're just saying that so I'll go, aren't you? Nope. Not going anywhere."

Chekov groaned. "Karina, I'm fine. Seriously. New Year's is the bigger holiday for us Russians. And you'll be back by then, so I'll actually have someone to spend it with, right?"

Karina bit her lip. "Not if my roommate has anything say about it. She has some hideous thing planned, I'm sure. Ah, who am I kidding? It's probably going to be fun. But either way, if I'm not going to be available on New Year's…"

He resumed the task of pushing her out the door. "I'll track Sulu down, then. I'm not above crashing someone's party, Karina."

She laughed slightly at how the distinctly American phrase sounded when translated into Russian. Holding her hands up in surrender, she said, "Okay, okay, fine. If you're sure."

He gave her one last, light shove and slid the door shut halfway. "Of course I'm sure. Go. Have fun. Come back soon." He didn't trust himself to say anything more. If he did he was liable to admit that he was, in fact, going to miss her.

She started to walk away, then turned around as though remembering something. "Merry Christmas, Pavel," she said in English.

He grinned at her. "Merry Christmas, Karina," he replied. The door slid shut all the way.

Outside, Karina walked away, shaking her head and smiling. Was she worried? Yes, yes she was. She hoped he'd make good on his statement that he'd track down Sulu on Christmas. But one thing she'd noted, in spite of her lack of ability to read people, was that he tended to isolate himself, lie low, and she was unsure of why that was.

One thing she did like, though, was how her name sounded when said with a Russian accent. Everyone else said it wrong, like _Corinna._ But Pavel managed to pronounce it correctly, of all things. Huh. Maybe that was how she'd start saying it, too.

* * *

December 30th

The last thing Andrei expected was for his daughter to come bursting into the room, blue eyes on fire and a look of consternation on her face.

"You found him, and you didn't tell me?" she demanded.

Andrei had never necessarily been fond of children. And even after he'd had two, he wasn't the warmest of fathers, he knew. But Anastasia had always been able to get away with more than Pavel had. Even Andrei didn't understand why that was. But he assumed it had something to do with the fact that Pteechka looked so much like her late mother. The hair the color of honey, her clear blue eyes, even her slight stature. Indeed, the girl did resemble a bird, as her nickname implied.

But he thought perhaps the most likely reason beside that was that she was more ruthless than her brother. Or at least had the potential to be, with the proper amount of training. The boy had an influence on his sister that Andrei didn't exactly fear, just looked upon it as an irritation. For some reason, his children had decided that the noble profession of illegal arms dealing was morally wrong. And it was too bad, because they both would have made excellent dealers.

However, Andrei didn't intend to pass his partnership off to his daughter. It was his son that he wanted to see take over. Anastasia might have been his favorite child, though he was almost loathe to admit it, but there was something about seeing your son prepare to follow in your footsteps that every man hoped for.

When your son despised everything about your profession that became slightly more difficult, but not impossible to overcome. It appeared Vladimir had successfully broken Dimitri and was now training him to take over his end of the deal. What was stopping Andrei from doing the exact same thing with Pavel?

Now, however, he had a daughter to deal with. "I wasn't aware you were looking for news of your brother, my child."

Her anger was apparent. She, unlike her brother, had not inherited the ability to keep her voice completely even while her face showed she was quite irate. No, it was the exact opposite. Curbing her initial countenance disruption, she became an unreadable mask but for that catch in her tone.

"Father, you didn't think I wanted to know where he was?" she demanded. "What part of my making myself literally sick with worry when he left was not clear?"

He shrugged. "It escaped my notice, I suppose."

"I see. Pavel escaping your notice isn't exactly a new thing, Father."

Andrei, who had turned to the door, whirled and nailed his daughter with the glaring face but even voice. "You forget the proper respect a daughter must show to her father, Anastasia!"

If she was quelled by the fierce expression, she didn't show it. Not even in her voice. Andrei frowned. This child was getting more difficult to frighten as the years went by. She hadn't held the same fear for him her brother had, not by a long shot. Perhaps that was because he'd tempered the fear with a proper amount of love toward her. But he'd still been able to use the little fear she did have to bend her normally stubborn temperament to his will.

In the past few years, however, he'd noticed a slight change in her. She was more defiant, more rebellious. Though it did irritate him to a point, considering one of the things she rebelled against was the tried and true family business, he couldn't help but feel a small thrill of pride. In looks, she may have resembled her mother, but when it came to personality, she was a Chekov through and through. In resignation, he supposed Pavel was, as well. The boy had just enough of his mother in him, however, to counteract it.

Andrei had yet to see the fierce side come out of his son, as he so frequently saw with his daughter. He was beginning to doubt it was even there. But in the last few months before Pavel had disappeared, he'd felt the slight resistance there, the stubbornness that the Chekovs prided themselves on. Resilient, this family was. That was why they hadn't been taken down long ago, when they first got into the arms business, in the twenty-first century. And they'd had to get even tougher as the years went on, considering that now they had a wider range of trade partners. Nausicaans, for example, were a bit of a harder negotiation than Somalians.

"Well, don't worry, child," he finally said, after she refused to back down and show him the fear he so desired to see from her. Fear meant respect, and he didn't want to lose hers. "You'll be seeing your brother soon enough."

Her face still a mask, Pteechka's tone once again belied her true feelings on the matter. "What do you mean, Father?"

He raised his hands in surrender. "Really, what must I do to satisfy you, Anastasia? I thought you would be happy at that prospect."

"Not if it means what I think it means," she said. "Father, you can't bring him back! Not now. It's been too long."

"Explain to me exactly how that is so," he growled, losing the façade in his voice. He was satisfied to see a tiny glimmer of fear behind her eyes. Not much, but it was definitely there. "You're right. He has been away too long. Too long chasing this fantasy that he created a year ago. Running away from his responsibilities here."

" _Responsibilities_?" Pteechka choked out. "You call what you want for his future responsibility?"

"Generally, yes," Andrei replied, back to the perfectly even tone. "You must know, Pteechka, that any father wishes to see his son take over the profession, yes? I'm not going to be around forever, you know, as much as I would like to be. And when I'm not, it would be best for everyone involved if the Chekov name was not smeared with – with…"

"An actually decent profession?" she quipped sarcastically when his voice trailed off. It infuriated Andrei to no end that the girl had actually gotten the better of him, for he had no reply. Finally he turned back toward the door, about to leave her to her own fury, when she asked, "When will you go to America, then?"

He turned back, and when he spoke, she sensed the finality in his tone and began to despair for her brother.

"Tomorrow."

* * *

December 31st

"Congratulations, Cam," Bones said. "You're completely cast free. Looks like your wrist has healed remarkably well, even in the past few weeks.

Camille rubbed her wrist as though she'd just been rid of handcuffs. As far as she was concerned, she had been. Hopping down off the table, she regretted that she couldn't stay longer, but she did have a class coming up. Another thing that skydiving venture had taught her: She'd be getting enough adventure when she was a full-fledged officer, and while that would take a while and she hated waiting, she was smart enough to know that being responsible for the moment and accepting the lack of adventure in her life was her best option here.

"Thanks, Bones," she said. "Hey, you are going to come later tonight, right? We're taking Kari out for her first drink. It's going to be a complete surprise. She knows I'm planning something, but doesn't know what that is, exactly."

Bones paused. He did want to go. He really did. But, remembering the last time he went out with Jim and Cam and not wanting to put himself into such a compromising position with her again, he decided against it.

"No," he said. "Not really a 'party' person."

She leveled him with a look. "Okay, first of all, there will be _responsible_ drinking. This is Karina's first time. I don't want to completely freak her out – or get myself into a position where I can't look after her. I would count on Jim it that situation, but I don't know if I can count on him to not get completely hammered. The man drinks like a fish."

"I heard that, Cam," Jim said, sauntering in. "And he'll be there, don't worry. If I have to tie him to the back of a car and drag him. And that's not going to be pleasant, trust me, Bones."

She turned to him and said, "I would recommend giving in."

Caught between liking it and not liking it, Bones continued to dig his heels in for a full minute, in which the pair of them stared at him, waiting for him to give in. It was when they actually tried making puppy eyes at him that he finally gave in.

"Jim, that's hideous," he groaned. "Cam, that definitely does not suit you, at all."

Her eyes burned with fire for a moment before he threw his hands up in surrender. "I only meant that the look you're giving me now is actually less disconcerting. Okay, okay! I'll go."

Camille gave a little hop of triumph. "Great!" she said. "That's what I like to hear. See you boys later, then!"

She walked out, and Jim watched her go. He then turned back to Bones, who was seemingly immersed in the paperwork on his clipboard. Jim grinned, a plan formulating in his mind. Bones may have absolutely no foundation when it came to being jealous of him and Camille, but that didn't mean that Jim would not use that fact to its fullest advantage. How to begin? He cleared his throat, hoping to catch Bones off guard.

"So, Bones, Camille was looking particularly beautiful today," he said.

"She looks beautiful every day, Jim," Bones muttered, then stopped dead in his tracks, mid-mark with the pencil, realizing he'd been caught. Jim's eyes widened, and a grin broke out on his face.

"What was that?" he asked, the glee evident in his voice.

Bones quickly tried to recover by saying, "Nothing. Nothing." But the damage was done. His face turned completely red with frustration at himself. So now Jim knew.

However, the man continued, seemingly oblivious, "So, you wouldn't mind if I asked her out, then?"

Bones practically dropped the clipboard. _That_ one had taken a left turn, one he certainly did not welcome!

"What – wait – what – why would you do a thing like that?" Bones asked, lamely attempting to conceal his shock.

Jim shrugged. "Why not? You said it yourself, she's beautiful. What do I have to lose here, right?"

Bones snorted. "You and Camille would be awful together."

Jim laughed it off. "Who said I'm looking for anything long term here?"

"You're – you're not?" There was the faintest glimmer of hope in Bones' eyes, accompanied by something very defensive.

"No, not really. I mean, I'm not a 'commitment' sort of guy. I'm thinking get in, get out, literally, if you know what I mean. Sure, things'll be awkward in the group for a while, but then it'll eventually get back to normal. You only live once, you know what I'm saying?"

Bones grew steadily more and more uncomfortable as Jim kept talking, as though Camille were a target, a trophy to place on his wall. Jim, seeing he was succeeding, bulldozed on.

"I mean, Camille is one _fine_ – "

"Dammit, man, she's not a piece of meat!" Bones finally exploded.

Jim grinned at him, his delight evident. "What was that, Bones?"

Bones, the paperwork in front of him forgotten, laid it aside, trying to cover his tracks, but once again, the damage was done. His face was red with more than just frustration this time.

"Well, I mean – women…in general…"

He trailed off, unable to come up with anything else to defend himself with. Jim was practically bouncing up and down in his victory, his grin spreading further than just ear to ear. That thing was practically going around the man's head.

"Oh, shut up," Bones growled, storming out of the clinic, as his shift was officially over.

Jim followed, mimicking Bones' gesture and holding his hands up in surrender. "I didn't say anything!"


	19. Chapter 19

**In which I am thankful for fan fiction. Hope your holiday was awesome!**

 **Chapter Nineteen: In which we break the law just slightly, the hammer falls, and there is swing dancing. Yes, you heard me. Swing dancing.**

 **Also, incidentally, I have put up that one shot I mentioned previously. It's less fluffy than Cam's POV, but still beautiful. Hope you like!**

 **Jim: Enjoy, review, read, have fun.**

 **Karina: Despair.**

 **Jim: Wow. That was a bit dark, don't you think, Kari?**

 **Karina: These are dark times, James.**

 **Camille: Okay...we need to get her to stop reading those mystery novels. Now.**

 **I own nothing! Well, I own Camille and Karina. No one else.**

* * *

Karina was laying on her bed, a book propped up on her knees, when Camille entered. Normally, Camille knew better than to disturb Karina when she was reading, but when she saw her friend moving toward her, her path not turning as it would were she going to her own bed, Karina said, "At least have the decency to mark my spot when you rip the book out of my hands."

Out of her hands it came. Cam grabbed the marker on the bedside table and said, "Please. Do you really think I'm that heartless?" Eyeing the book, Camille shrugged. "So you're still into antiques?" She reached down and pulled her into a sitting position. "Get dressed. We're going out."

"I am dressed, Cam."

"I mean in something cute. Not the grunge you wear when we're out of class."

"Going out with who?"

"People."

"What kind of people?"

"It's just Jim and Bones. Relax, Kari!"

Karina pulled her knees up to her chest. "Where are we going?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out. Now, come on! You've hardly had a life this year – besides the Russian kid. Now, I know teaching's a noble profession and all, but even those involved have to have a little fun, right?"

There was a silence, and Camille sensed she'd scored a verbal point.

"Cam, I'm underage!" Karina finally protested. "And I don't look any older than I am, either! How do you propose I sneak into a bar, pray tell?"

Camille gave her a look that clearly asked if she was scared. Karina shook her head.

"Not that I'm not all for this, mind you," she amended.

Camille grinned, pulling out a card and handing it to Karina. Karina's eyes widened as she scanned the fake ID, and her jaw dropped at the realism. According to this, she was born in 2238 like Camille, not 2242 like she actually had been.

"Where in the name of the Federation did you get this?"

Camille dragged her to her feet. "Oh, honey. You don't hang out with James Tiberius Kirk for too long without picking a few things up. Now come on. I need to pick something out for you to wear. I refuse to believe you only have a uniform and some grungy clothes in your closet after a year of rooming with me."

"Well, believe it," Karina muttered.

"Then I'm sure I have something that'll work. Come on!" Camille repeated.

* * *

Chekov knew that Karina hadn't made any attempt to contact him that day because her roommate had something planned. She'd told him that much. He just kind of missed human contact, that was all.

He actually hadn't made any attempt to see what Sulu was doing over Christmas, like he'd told her. Laying low had just become a habit the past couple of months, one that was rather hard to break. Unless it was Karina, of course. She'd kind of given him no choice. Then again, he'd also given her no choice.

Chekov didn't understand what he was thinking sometimes. It made no sense that he had been so determined to get inside Karina's head back when she was an impenetrable fortress, but now that they'd gotten past that point, she was the one who had to drag him out of his shell. Realistically, it didn't make sense. But he wasn't really going to question it. It wasn't exactly an unpleasant feeling.

She'd told him they'd resume lessons the first day back into class. That was two days away, though. Reasonably, he hoped he'd see her before then. Two weeks without talking to anyone was a long time.

Of course, he'd gone to the track every other day or so at the start of hiatus, then, as the loneliness started to set in, he'd gone every day. Running was, as per usual, his escape, his release. Without the threat of his father hanging over his head, he probably would have signed up for that marathon by now. But knowing he would probably have to leave Starfleet soon warned him against that. What would be the point?

He picked up the communicator. Maybe he should just contact her. Who knew? Maybe she'd actually wanted to today, but knew that there really wouldn't be a point because she was doing something later tonight.

Chekov nearly jumped out of his skin when the door buzzed. He practically leaped off the bed. Who would be at his door? Did Karina's plans get canceled or something? Not that he was complaining. This just confirmed his desire to talk to his friend was not unfounded.

He pressed the button to activate the door. It slid open, to his horror, revealing not Karina, but the last person he wanted to see, ever again. He'd hoped to be long gone far before this happened.

"Well, I was wondering where you'd got to," Andrei said, his tone completely even but his face characteristically belying the possibility of that calmness extending to his thoughts. "Hello, son."

* * *

Camille watched her younger friend wincing at the flashing lights but so obviously trying to put on a brave face and grinned. "How you holding up here, kid?"

Karina pulled a finger out of her ear and called back, "It's really loud!"

"That's the general idea!" Camille shouted, laughing. She'd thought Karina would be into the loudness, the partying, all that jazz. She was part of the fun squad, after all – the members of the group that included everyone but Bones. Yes, Karina definitely liked to have fun, but perhaps Camille had misjudged what the kid considered "fun."

No matter. What was done was done, and Karina's distress was not going to stop Camille from having the time of her life tonight. Hearing the DJ announce the start of swing dancing and eyeing their men seated at the bar, Camille got an idea.

"Come on," she said, pulling Karina along with her.

Meanwhile, at the bar, Bones grabbed Jim's shot glass as soon as it hit the wood and pulled it away. "Okay, Jim, I think you've had enough."

Jim, his words already slightly slurred, reached out for it, a look nothing short of pathetic etched on his face. "Come on, Bones! Have you ever seen me wasted on less than ten shots?"

"That was ten shots, Jim."

Jim rolled his eyes and managed to wrest the shot glass from Bones. "Whatever."

Bones groaned and was about to grab it back, but breathed a sigh of relief when Camille came up with Karina and Jim was temporarily distracted by Camille's proposition. However, his heart shot into his throat again when he realized what it was.

"All right, which of you boys is going to dance with me?" she asked, positively sparkling with excitement. And sparkling was not a term Bones used on a regular basis.

He snorted. "I don't dance."

Her look belied nothing but disbelief. "Don't expect me to believe that a Southern man like yourself" – she dropped into a drawl on that one – "doesn't know how to swing dance?"

"And a city girl like yourself managing that accent is equally impressive," Karina muttered, barely audible over the blaring music. Camille ignored her.

"Well, believe it," Bones replied in a surly manner, turning back to the bar, "because it's true."

Camille frowned, then looked at Jim, whose grin all but gave her the go-ahead. "Well, if you won't do it, I might just have to dance with Jim then – "

Bones practically knocked over his stool in his haste to get up and grab her hand before Jim did. He muttered something under his breath that sounded remarkably like, "Like hell," as the stool tottered on its legs.

Laughing, Camille dragged him off toward the floor, saying, "Come on, cowboy!" The stool, meanwhile, clattered to the floor. Jim and Karina stared at it for a few minutes, then looked up at each other and broke into fits of laughter.

Jim stood up, stretched, and grabbed Karina's arm in turn. "Well, I can say from experience that Bones isn't much of a dancer, and he was the one who taught me, but I'm fairly certain we can survive without me crushing your toes too much."

Karina froze, and when he tried to pull her along she was practically a statue. He turned back to find her sheet white, and stammering, "Me? Dance? I – I – I don't dance, Jim. I've never danced in my life!"

Jim gave her a look that indicated he clearly didn't believe her, and she muttered, "Okay, fine, I know like, five different styles of international dances. That doesn't mean I'm good at them. And I absolutely have no idea how to swing dance!"

His grin only widening, he gave her another tug and she could no longer resist, giving all of her effort to the last one. "Which is why it's high time for you to learn, don't you think?"

Karina let herself be dragged toward the dance floor, feeling her cheeks go from pale white to bright red. People were staring at them and whispering. It appeared some of them knew Jim. And if they knew Jim, they probably assumed she was his – oh, gross!

Finding a place where they would have decent enough room, just in case she was an awful dancer and had very little control over where she went, Jim took her hand and put it on his shoulder, then placed his on her waist, feeling her tense up slightly. He gave her a look.

"You trust me, right?"

She swallowed and nodded. That boosted his ego slightly after the incident with Camille and the skydiving.

"Okay, then I need you to relax." He took her free hand and raised it up to the proper position. "I'm going to lead with my left, you'll step back with your right and…"

With minor stumblings, she got the basic moves down. Jim shook his head. The kid was not what one would call a natural, but with some learning, he thought she could get pretty good. Two-stepping was not exactly hard to wrap one's brain around, thankfully.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the dance floor, Bones and Camille were practically tearing it up. Almost involuntarily, he dipped her, and she went with it, not allowing herself to be caught off guard. Jim looked over at them and gestured with his head to Karina.

"I'd say those two are perfect dance partners. What do you think?"

She smirked. "I would have to agree. They really should do this more often, shouldn't they?"

"We might need to make that happen."

From her dipped position staring up at him, Camille was laughing softly to herself. Bones frowned, not sure if he'd been doing it correctly. Why else would she be laughing? "What are you cackling about, woman?"

Admiring his ability to hold her in this position for such a long amount of time, she shook her head and sighed. "Oh, nothing. It's just that… 'I don't dance?' You're such a liar, cowboy!"

For a moment, she thought he might have taken offense, but when he brought her back up and started spinning her with even more vigor than before, she knew that, in his own way, he'd seen the humor in it.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty: In which Jim plays the protective older brother...in a slightly different light than that one-shot I did a while back, doesn't understand a word of Russian, and Karina goes quite mad.**

 **I apologize for the lack of Camille and Bones in this chapter, but once we get there, I think you'll appreciate why they're missing immensely. Mwahahahahaha! Over to Karina.**

 **Karina: browneyedgirl29 doesn't own Star Trek. Only the plot and her OCs are hers. Also, just as a note, she cried while going over this chapter.**

 **I did not! I merely experienced very strong emotions. Now shush! (ahem) Enjoy and review!**

* * *

"So, Kari, tell me about this Russian kid," Jim queried as they sat in a booth about an hour later, both slightly exhausted from the dancing. "You know I have to approve anyone that you are even considering – "

Karina spit out her drink – which, incidentally, happened to be a White Russian. Jim had recommended it. Now she had to wonder if that wasn't intentional. She coughed for a couple of seconds, trying to clear her airway, and stared at Jim with wide eyes. Finally, she calmed down enough to respond.

"What has Camille been telling you? Where is she?" She sat up and began looking around. "I will _murder_ her!"

Jim sat back, laughing as Karina frantically searched the room. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen Camille and Bones for a while now, either. Scanning the entire bar, he could find no trace of them. They'd been dancing nonstop long after Jim and Karina had left the floor. Jim could only assume this had to do with Bones' notion that he was after Camille. That was perfectly fine by Jim, as long as the man came to his senses and asked her out – soon.

"Relax, Kari," he said. "Camille only told me certain things. Such as the fact that he's a guy. So naturally, I had to ask."

Karina sighed in relief, sinking back down into her seat. "Well, as long as you're asking, I'm _not_ …considering, as you put it. We're friends, okay?"

"Yeah, but how good of friends?"

She glared at him. "Stop. Reading. Into. This. Got that, James?"

He grinned, knowing he'd gotten under her skin. In typical big brother fashion, he enjoyed nothing better than driving her insane. "Okay, okay, I get it. You're friends. And honestly, it's kind of relieving. It means I don't have to let him know what happens if he hurts you."

Karina frowned. "What happens then?"

Jim shrugged. "Oh, I beat him to within an inch of his life. Then Camille's standing by to take care of that extra inch. At which point Bones leans down and pronounces him dead."

Karina shuddered, getting the mental image of such a scene. "Yeah, I can picture it."

He eyed her. "So, incidentally, are there any boys you're interested in? I mean, I already scared that Jenkins kid from Engineering off, but…"

Karina's head shot up. "That was actually a thing? I thought Cam just made that up to get me back into boys?"

Jim grinned. "You really are oblivious to these things, aren't you?"

She grew very quiet, and he was worried for a moment that he'd offended her. "I'm sorry, Kari, I didn't mean it like – "

"No, it's okay, Jim," she said, once again shaking her head. "Really, it's okay. I just didn't know how to respond for a second. I'm just not ready to be un-oblivious, I guess. Not really."

They were silent for a few minutes. "You were a lot more hurt by that Spanish guy last year than you let on, weren't you?" he asked. "All this time we've thought you were fine because that was what you showed us. But you're not, right?"

Karina nodded. "That was my first crush, Jim. I never liked any of the boys back in the abbey. I'd never thought about it. And honestly, the fact that I can't seem to move past this kind of irritates me. Normally I bounce back pretty quickly."

She sighed. "Maybe I'm just meant to be single."

Jim shrugged again. "Or maybe you're fifteen. And reasonably should be single for a long time yet. Kar, just because we tease you about this, doesn't mean we actually want you to start dating anyone. That's just what family does."

Karina smiled up at him. "You guys really are my family, you know that?"

He raised his glass. "To family."

She mimicked the gesture and clinked hers against his. "To family."

They'd both barely downed their drinks before her communicator started vibrating. Jim peeked over and saw the name on the screen.

"Speaking of the Russian devil," he quipped, smirking as though he'd made some witty comment. Drinking too much tended to do that to a man, he'd noticed.

Karina rolled her eyes. "'Devil' is hardly how I'd put it," she retorted. Then amended her statement, "Unless he's mad, of course. Then I don't think it's quite strong enough."

She flipped it open and held it to her ear. " _Privyet_."

Jim muttered to himself, "No idea what that means," and threw back another sip of his beer when he noticed a slight change in Karina's tone. It was agitated, urgent, and nothing like the calm person she'd been before she'd answered it.

She hung up, something in her eyes that he couldn't quite define. Not sadness, not fear… but definitely not a positive emotion, either.

"Jim, we need to get back to the Academy. _Now_."

* * *

Jim stood outside the door, only barely able to hear the conversation going on inside. Not that he would understand it if he did. All he could catch was a bunch of rapid Russian words flying about.

He'd hailed a cab and Kari had filled him in on the way here. Apparently something had gone wrong with her Russian friend's father. The guy was in town. Jim didn't necessarily understand why that was bad, and neither did Karina, but somehow he didn't think everything was sunshine and rainbows between father and son.

Karina's voice raised slightly in volume, and he winced. Whatever was going on didn't sound like it was the kid's fault, so he seriously hoped she wasn't taking it out on him. Though he knew if she was, she was doing it entirely unintentionally. Karina may not think before speaking half the time, and she may not have been the best of listeners when her mind was made up that she was right, but she wasn't cruel. Without good purpose, anyway.

Jim strained to listen, then gave up, coming to the realization that even trying to understand was pointless. Any similarities Russian may have with English, if there were any, were not included in this conversation. And he was not going to give himself an aneurysm trying to catch any of it.

* * *

"What do you mean, your father didn't know you were here?" Karina exclaimed, pulling her hands down her face and leaving white marks as she went. "You signed on without his permission? How did that work?" She paused for a moment, then added, "And why didn't I think of that ages ago?"

"Depends on how old you are when you sign on," Pavel informed her, looking like he really wanted to get past this part of the conversation and on to the problem-solving part of it. "If you're fifteen or over, you don't need parental signature. Or guardian signature, in your case. That's why it wasn't necessary for me to have his, but you needed your Mother Superior's."

Karina groaned, flopping down on the extra bed and throwing her hands up in the air. "And now he wants to take you away because he never approved of this in the first place, right? This isn't fair! We've worked so flipping hard!"

Though he didn't say anything, he was wondering if that was all that mattered to her in this situation, the fact that all their work was going in vain. Was it not important to her, that he was going back to Russia, probably never to return?

She stood up and started pacing, a crazed look in her eyes that slightly scared him. He hadn't doubted that she could go slightly insane if pushed. No, that had been quite apparent from the beginning. But this was not exactly what he had expected when that insanity hit.

"There's gotta be something we can use here," she muttered. "Some sort of runaway law or something… Wait. Are you a citizen?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Why would I be a citizen?"

She paused and considered. Ridiculous question, now that she thought of it. There were less requirements for staying in the country than there used to be. Even less so for a member of an intergalactic armada. Still, there were laws that only applied to American citizens, and rights that only applied to citizens. Technically, they were all supposed to be under protection of the Federation, but even so, there were some laws that were decided country to country.

Something told her that they wouldn't apply to a Russian runaway, even if he _was_ a member of Starfleet.

Karina wasn't about to give up yet, though. A million things that would be necessary for her to know when looking through the law records some random Admiral insisted they keep in Starfleet's library ran through her mind. Okay. Age? Seventeen. Situation? She thought she knew that pretty well. Suddenly, something occurred to her.

She turned to her friend and found the thought running through her head increasingly repulsive. But how could she not have seen it before, with the nervous movements, even when his father wasn't involved, but even more so now, today. Karina stopped her pacing and turned to him. Her teeth grit, even at the thought.

"Is your father abusive, Pavel?" she asked, dreading the answer. "Has he ever hit you, hurt you in any way?"

His silence told her everything she needed to know. The way he avoided her eye contact was even more telling.

Karina felt anger burning in her heart. Everything became suddenly more urgent to her. She walked up to him, standing so close she forced him to look her in the eyes.

"You can tell me," she told him gently. "If you can trust anyone, you can trust me."

A second's hesitation. It had been so long since he'd had anyone around him he could trust. But Chekov realized, Karina was right. She was the one person in this that he could trust. And he knew, instinctively, that he would.

"Not…abusive," he said. "He wasn't around enough for that. He never _beat_ me, or anything like that. But every once in a while, he wasn't averse to raising his hand to me."

The crazy look in her eyes was back, but this time it was terrifying for different reasons. If he'd cared about the man that much, Chekov might have found himself fearing for his father's life. Karina had a determined set to her jaw, one that he had never seen before.

"That's got to still count," she muttered. "It _has_ to still count. I don't care if it was just once in a while. Do you have any scars or anything to prove it?"

The look on his face told her how utterly insensitive that comment had been. She buried her head in her hands and let out a groan of frustration.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she moaned. "I just don't know what else to do here, okay? I don't – " Her voice trailed off, and she decided that she'd gone that far, she might as well continue. "I don't want you to leave, okay? It's not just that we've worked too hard to get on the _Enterprise_ and now it's all for naught. I really don't want you to leave!"

He wasn't sure why she seemed loathe to admit it. Like not wanting him to leave was something to be ashamed of. Then he realized: She wanted to appear strong. Like she would be okay no matter what happened. And admitting that was showing weakness, vulnerability.

And, increasingly, he found himself liking this side of Karina. He didn't know why she didn't share the affection.

"What can I do?" she started saying, over and over, as though she were a crazy woman in a mental asylum, with nothing better to do than repeat the same sentence over and over again, rocking back and forth in a corner. There was even a hysterical edge to her voice.

Taking her by the shoulders to calm her down, Chekov said, "There's nothing you _can_ do, Karina. I didn't call you here to fix this."

Confused, she lifted her eyes to him. They were filled with tears, and he realized he'd never seen her cry before. She wasn't technically crying yet, though.

"Why _did_ you, then?" she asked.

Oh, this girl. Was there no end to her need to make things better for the people around her?

"Well, I'm still allowed to want to say good-bye, aren't I?" he asked, realizing just how close to a cliché that sounded.

Karina looked for a moment as if she were going to give into that desire to cry. Then she blinked rapidly several times, clearing her vision.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No."

Chekov frowned. "No, I'm not allowed to want to – "

"No, that's not what I meant!" she cried, resuming her pacing. He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. He'd really thought they'd moved on from the whole pacing thing.

"What I meant was, no, this isn't going to happen! I don't care if this takes me a year, I'll find some way to stop this!"

He shrugged. "Realistically, in a year I'll be eighteen. Technically I'll be able to leave of my own volition then." But he knew, deep down, that once his father had gotten him back this time, he was never leaving Russia again. He was just saying that to put her mind at ease.

However, Karina's mind wasn't one to be put at ease so quickly. She continued her pacing. "Yeah, and by that time, it'll be too late! You'll be back, and that'll be great, but everything we've worked for will go down the tubes! You'll have to start over at the Academy. Basically, this sucks all around."

For more reasons than she understood.

"So what are you proposing to do here?" he asked, trying to sound patient, but torn between wanting her to just go and get it over with and desperately wanting her to stay.

"I'll dig through the law books," she said. "There's got to be something here. I'll go to Captain Pike. I'll do something, Pavel! I don't know what that is yet, but I'll do something."

She grabbed him by the wrist, and though in her frenzy it seemed almost a violent gesture, he knew it was anything but. "This isn't over yet. There's no need for us to say good-bye, okay? I'll bring you back."

She turned to go, then, on a sudden impulse, flew back and wrapped her arms around his waist so tight he momentarily lost the ability to breathe. Appreciating what she was trying to do but seriously doubting she could best his father in this, Chekov returned the embrace with an equal fervor, knowing this was probably the last time he'd ever see her.

Karina fought back the tears that were threatening to come out. How quickly this had progressed from a business deal to a friendship. And she'd been working so hard to keep that spot on the _Enterprise_ so she wouldn't have to be separated from her best friends, she hadn't even considered that she might lose one of them.

But here they were.

Later, when Karina looked back, she wouldn't recall how long the pair of them stood there. Jim, outside, wondered briefly why things had fallen silent, and of course his mind went the exact opposite of where Karina wanted it to. But the one thing both Chekov and Karina knew when they looked back on it was that neither of them wanted to let go.

Finally, reluctantly, he pulled back, his hands on her shoulders. "You should go," he said in a low, hollow voice. "He'll be back any minute now. He was just heading out to secure our place on the shuttle tomorrow."

Her heart dropped. "Tomorrow?"

He nodded.

She trudged toward the door, then turned back. "I'm bringing you back. I promise."

The door slid shut behind her with finality. He dropped down into a chair. Now was not the time to lose composure. His father looked on that as weakness, and Chekov was determined not to show any this time around.

Karina, meanwhile, steamrolled past Jim, who raced after her. "Whoa! Kari! Slow down! Do you mind telling me what's going on here?"

"This is happening _naad moy myort vee tyela_!" she exploded, continuing on her trek to the library.

Jim groaned. "English, Kar. Remember it?"


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One: In which there is plotting, frantic searching, and MORE frantic searching! Lots of people being frantic, basically. Oh, and Karina manages to get herself in some seriously hot water again. Did I mention that one?**

 **Jim: (frantically) And, meanwhile... WHERE IN HECK ARE CAMILLE AND BONES?**

 **Guess we'll have to find out, huh?**

 **I only own my OCs.**

Vladimir had watched as the girl left Pavel's dormitory. She looked as though she were on a mission. And the words "over my dead body" hadn't exactly been a promising aspect. Andrei would not be happy to hear of this.

Then again, did he need to hear of it? Vladimir paused for a few moments, not entirely sure of his next move. He knew his partner. If anything or anyone deigned to interfere with Andrei Chekov's plan, they would find themselves at least stinging from a minor flesh wound, whether that be figurative or literal. Vladimir was a cold, ruthless man. But less so than Andrei, much less so.

If he informed Andrei that the girl might interfere now, there was a possibility he'd merely scare her a bit, then let her go loose. But on the chance that she did discover something that compromised Andrei's right to his son now, Andrei's revenge would be quick and swift… and unrelenting.

Vladimir didn't have the same disdain for Pavel as Andrei did…sad when you considered that the boy was Andrei's son. In fact, on occasion, Vladimir sometimes liked Pavel better than his own son, Dimitri. So if this girl was trying to help him, she probably had a good judge of character. He didn't blame her.

And, though he couldn't understand why, he'd rather her not get hurt.

Knowing her escaping any harm was unlikely even if he told Andrei now, he decided to do so any way. Damage control, he called it. He may be involved in the same business as Andrei, but he didn't get the same sick pleasure from watching carnage as the other man did.

Seeing Andrei approach, Vladimir sighed and steeled his nerves. Might as well get it over with. He raised a hand, hailing the other man.

Frowning, Andrei bypassed Pavel's door and went to where Vladimir was standing.

"What is it?" he asked. "What did you see?"

Lowering his voice, Vladimir said, "We may have a problem."

* * *

At this point, Karina was frantic. Jim had fallen asleep at least twice already, as she'd kept him awake looking through the files with her. Computerized research may be faster than book research – though Karina personally preferred the latter – but it was still yielding no results. The United States, Starfleet, no one had any rights referring to this situation.

Karina nudged Jim awake. "Come on, Jim. I need your help. I need you to be awake."

But she was close to falling asleep herself. She'd been up all night, and though that wasn't uncommon for New Year's, she also knew that most people did it with the assumption that they could sleep in the next day. She had no such luck. Classes may not resume until the day after tomorrow, but she had to keep looking. She couldn't rest until she found an answer.

None of this would have been a problem if Camille and Bones were lending their eyes, as well. Where were they, anyway? She was surprised her communicator hadn't buzzed by now, with Camille wondering why she hadn't crawled back into the room, completely hammered at this point.

Jim had no response, of course. After her all but screaming at him and being shushed by the night shift librarian, he'd tried to stay awake valiantly, but was now out like a light. Karina groaned. Some help he was, that one.

If she exhausted these files, she would go to Captain Pike, but Karina wasn't exactly certain what good that would do. And she was beginning to realize, there wasn't much else she could do, bar waiting until hiatus, hopping a shuttle to Russia, marching up to the Chekov's door, and hauling Pavel back by the ears. After stunning his father, of course. That would be immensely satisfying.

Maybe she wouldn't be with Jim, Camille, and Bones after all. At least they could stay in touch. There were so many ways to do that nowadays. She wouldn't lose them entirely.

The only thing Karina cared about right now was making sure that Pavel got to choose his future. Once everything got sorted out, hopefully they would at least be assigned to the same ship.

She was staring at the screen, blinking rapidly to keep herself awake, when she heard a grunt come from the direction of the librarian.

Karina sat bolt upright, unsure of whether she should turn around and investigate or rather keep quiet, hunkering down underneath the table, dragging Jim with her. Her split second's hesitation was the worst option she could have taken, however.

A rough hand clamped itself over her mouth, and someone lifted her off her feet. Remembering the last time she had been mugged, a cold wave of fear passed over her and she lashed out with her legs, kicking at anything she could.

Her captor wrestled her to the ground, moving quickly so as to avoid her crying out and waking Jim. He slipped a gag over her mouth and began tying her wrists and ankles. Karina's heart beat faster than she could remember it ever beating before, and she screamed against the foul-tasting cloth, hoping Jim would hear her. She felt a shadow falling over her and looked up at the man towering above – and choked on her screams.

She'd never seen him before in her life, but she knew who he was automatically. He bore such a strong resemblance to his son…albeit slightly scarier-looking, and meaner.

 _The older Mr. Chekov, I presume,_ she thought. And as to who had a death grip on her right now, she instinctively knew that it was the partner Pavel had mentioned – Vladimir, he'd said his name was.

She was seriously going to have to think up something good to work her way out of this one. Romulans, she could handle. Russians, on the other hand? It was slightly sad that she felt better up against an alien race than she did up against her own species.

Andrei was holding a formidable looking weapon, which Karina would have expected, knowing he was an illegal arms dealer, and her heart rate quickened when she saw that it was a phaser rifle. Like the antique guns she'd seen in store windows here in the city, these were slightly more powerful than their handheld counterparts. Meaning that they had no "stun" setting. These things either missed you or blew your head off, there was no in between whatsoever.

And right now, he was moving straight toward Jim.

Karina started struggling even harder as Andrei leveled the phaser at Jim's head. How was the man not waking up right about now? Seriously!

"What are you doing?" Vladimir asked, incredulous. "I wasn't aware we were still in the business of murder."

Andrei glared at his partner. "He's going to wake up and find the girl missing. We can't leave any traces of our presence here."

"I think a dead man leaves more evidence than a missing girl, don't you?" Vladimir posed. "Take her bag. By the time he wakes up and sees her gone, he'll think she's just headed back to her room and given up. And then once he realizes she's truly missing, it'll be too late."

Karina didn't necessarily like the sound of that, but at the same time she was rooting for Vladimir. She'd already come close to getting Jim killed last year, she wasn't eager to repeat the process, with more success.

Andrei looked for a brief second as though he were about to go ahead and kill Jim, in spite of his friend's warning, then groaned and sheathed the rifle at his side. "Fine. But let's go. Sooner or later someone's going to come in here. It may be the holidays, but this _is_ a place of study, after all."

Karina refused to struggle any farther. Attempting to get loose would only distract her from figuring out a strategy. She didn't intend to die today, any more than she intended to when she'd gotten kidnapped by Romulans last year. And even less so did she intend to let them get away undetected.

"And exactly how do you propose we get out of here, Andrei?" Vladimir growled, rising and dragging her up with him. "We won't have time to get through the hallways now before it's crawling with cadets, officers, everyone and their brother!"

Andrei nodded his head to the right. "Same way as last time," he said. "Come on. Get the blindfold on her and let's get out of here."

 _Last time?_ Karina thought. _What last time?_

But she was not to know where they were going, apparently. Vladimir shoved a thick black cloth over her head, and, enveloped in darkness, the only thing she could really think of was how long it would be before she ran out of air.

* * *

Jim was not so foolish as Andrei had thought. He assumed nothing when he awoke to find Karina gone. In this situation, he supposed anything could happen. Trying Cam's communicator, he found her to not be in the answering mood. Great. He tried Kari's. She wasn't answering, either.

He made his way through the corridors, attempting not to be frantic. Frantic was not a word that often described Jim Kirk, but this time, he was really having to push back the feeling. Funny how often that happened when it came to Karina.

Reaching Camille and Karina's room, he buzzed the door. No answer. "Cam? Kari?" he tried, though he doubted that if they were asleep, they'd be able to hear him if they couldn't hear the buzzer. A thought occurred to him, and he couldn't decide whether it was horrific or satisfying. "Bones?"

No answer. He was almost halfway relieved.

Turning away from the door, he frowned. Where to next? Maybe the Russian kid's room. Knowing Karina, he didn't put it past her to march herself back there and flat out tell the kid's father exactly what was on her mind. Which, undoubtedly, would have gotten her into an even worse predicament than she'd bargained for. The girl had a habit for landing herself in hot water.

Balancing his need to find out where Kari was quickly and his desire to not look like a complete idiot, cavorting around Starfleet like a madman, he settled for a power walk, rather than the run he really wanted to break into. He hoped he remembered which room it was.

Turns out, he didn't need to remember. It was quite obvious by the time he got there.

The door hung wide open. Whoever had been there last had left in a hurry. Otherwise, everything was just as it had been before. Something was definitely off. If they were heading back to Russia, why was everything still here?

Jim tried Camille's communicator again, then Bones'. Why was no one answering? They were having a situation, here!

Suddenly, something flittering in the corner of his eye caught his attention. A piece of paper floated on the breeze near to the ground, and he lunged for it. He had a hunch that nothing was too random to be evidence, and he didn't believe in coincidences.

His eyes widened when he saw the lettering on the paper. This was bad. This was very bad.

It was a map of Starfleet's tunnels. They knew how to move underground. Jim groaned and sank back against the wall, sliding to the ground. If these guys had Kari, it was going to be stinking difficult to find them in that labyrinth.

Suddenly he sat up straight, a horrible thought occurring to him. They hadn't given names in the article he'd read about Kari's dad saving Starfleet. But they had mentioned that the pair of men responsible for the break-in had escaped…and they were Russian arms dealers.

And as previously stated, James Tiberius Kirk was not one to believe in coincidences.

He had to find Karina. But first, he needed to find Camille and Bones.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty Two: In which Karina's past is brought into shocking, horrifying light; in which Camille and Bones finally reappear and Jim is the responsible parent for once; and in which a search party is sent out.**

 **Lots of Camille and Bones in this one to make up for your being deprived of them for a week. Once again, my sincerest apologies, but it had to happen! Over to Camille for a shout-out...**

 **Camille: HUGE shout-out to Howling2themoon for continuing to review faithfully! browneyedgirl29 appreciates you immensely!**

 **Seriously, though... I like to think of myself as a confident person, but I'm not COMPLETELY without insecurities. Am I boring you guys? That being said, I realize it's a busy time of year, but I really do appreciate reviews.**

 **Karina: If nothing else, after the week I've had, PLEASE do ME a favor and review.**

 **Be nice, Kari. I hope this chapter blows your minds, makes you angry...and maybe makes you laugh a little. Also, if my references to Communism offend anyone, I apologize profusely. That was not my intent.**

 **I only own my OCs!**

* * *

This was seriously the most stereotypical position she had ever been in, and, considering her luck, that was saying something. Tied to a chair with a bright light blazing down on her. By now, Karina had figured out where she was. She'd been here before. It was the tunnels, of course. She groaned inwardly, knowing the likelihood that she'd find her way out of here once she escaped was very slim.

Vladimir had been gone for about twenty minutes at this point. Andrei, meanwhile, remained with her, just staring. He was honestly kind of creeping her out. The more she looked at him, the less he looked like Pavel to her and the more he just took on his own creepy persona. She marveled at how this guy had raised her friend, yet somehow Pavel had managed to turn out okay.

Finally unable to stand the silence, she asked, "So, where did the other one go?" She knew Andrei didn't know she knew his name, or Vladimir's, so she elected to not raise any suspicion there.

Andrei sat up from where he'd been leaning on his elbows, staring at her some more. "He's gone to get my son. With whom, I understand, you are acquainted somehow."

He frowned. "I can't help but feel that you look familiar somehow. Who are you, out of an immense amount of curiosity? And how exactly _do_ you know Pavel?"

Figuring there wasn't any harm in telling the man – after all, once she got out of here, it was only a matter of time before international authorities caught up to him – she glared and put on her most defiant tone. "My name is Karina Bartowski. Captain Pike hired me to teach your son Standard. Which, incidentally, I notice you speak quite fluently." He'd only directly addressed her in English, though she'd started their conversation in Russian.

"So, tell me, Andrei, how does that work? What, you didn't think it was important he learn English and have that advantage in life? Because now _I'm_ curious."

Andrei had grown deathly quiet, his face an unreadable mask. "You have spirit, girl, I'll give you that," he told her. A slow, sinister smile began to creep over his face. "Not unlike your parents, in fact. Your father especially."

Karina took a few moments to register what he said, then felt the blood drain out of her face. "What are you saying?" she asked. Then suddenly everything was clear to her. Russian arms dealers. Starfleet. Knowledge of the tunnels.

Staring at the man who had likely killed her parents, she couldn't feel anger. Just horror, horror in abundance.

Laughing under his breath, Andrei rose and began to walk about the room, situated off one of the main tunnels.

"Ironic, isn't it, that you will die at the same hands that took their lives?" he asked. "In Vladimir's defense, _he_ was the one who smuggled you to safety. Honestly, I only cared about my revenge on your father. I could let your survival slip past me." Andrei's face slightly softened. "I may not be a good father. But I still am a father. Killing a child in such a manner was distasteful to me. So when he grabbed you and ran, I did not question it. Even let him back into our business contract."

His comment about being a father mystified her. Did he actually care that much about his son, in spite of all Pavel had told her? Then she realized: He was probably referring to his daughter. Pteechka probably would have been about two at the time.

Karina almost laughed at the fact that she could still process this while facing her parents' killer…the father of one of her best friends. But instead of laughter, it was bile that rose to her throat. The anger was starting to kick in.

"What did my father do to you?" she asked, though she already knew what the answer would be. Honestly, she was just stalling for time at this point. "What was so important about that invasion that it required the man who halted it to die?"

"Starfleet had just developed a new, more advanced phaser rifle," Andrei informed her, casually, as though he were discussing the weather. "At that point in time, it would have earned me a fortune. Nausicaans, Orions, they'd all pay hundreds of thousands of credits for such a purchase, maybe even millions. But one insignificant little CIA agent decided to get in my way. Of course, this development is the phaser rifle we commonly see today, but it's less advanced now. Worth less. You see my problem, and why revenge on your father was… well, maybe not necessary, but immensely satisfying.

"I should never have spared you," he growled, the hardness returning. "You have complicated my own family life more than you will ever realize."

"Why?" she growled. "Because I apparently care about your son more than you ever have? You were right when you said you were a lousy father, Andrei. He's told me everything."

Andrei didn't appear angry, which irritated her. Maybe she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of using his name. No, she'd just call him "comrade" now. That would work well.

"Has he, then?" Andrei asked. "He must have felt relatively safe here. I don't think he's ever told anyone much about me and our…interaction as father and son, I guess. Not even Dimitri. Vladimir's son, by the way," he added, as if she didn't know.

"Making him feel safe was kind of my goal," she muttered. And how dismally she'd failed.

At that moment, the door that led out into the tunnels swung open. Vladimir prodded Pavel inside. If he'd looked miserable before, that was nothing compared to how his face changed when his eyes fell on her.

"Karina," he muttered, as though he couldn't believe this was happening. She felt him there.

Andrei gestured to the chair he'd occupied moments before. "Sit down, son," he said. Pavel looked up at him, face defiant. " _Now_."

Vladimir said, "I'd listen to him, Pavel. Especially keeping your friend in mind." He gestured toward Karina, and Pavel's defiant charade dropped. Defeat replacing it, he took the seat.

Andrei turned to Vladimir and started filling him in on what he'd uncovered. Not paying attention, Pavel leaned forward, his head in his hands.

"I never wanted you to get mixed up in this," he said, the only person in the room that was still speaking Russian. "I should have told you everything long before, given you the chance to get out while you could."

Karina frowned, then something dawned on her. "That's why you were always so closed off. Why you always wanted to know about me, but never told me anything about you. You were afraid to let me in because you didn't want me to get hurt, right?"

He nodded. "That was part of it. I'm _so_ sorry, Karina. I should have just let you keep things professional at the beginning."

Karina scoffed. "Heck no, you shouldn't have! I don't particularly care what happens in this case, this friendship thing we have going on was pretty much worth it. In my book, anyway."

He stared at her. "You do know you're probably going to die, right?"

"Yep. I have no illusions."

"Still worth it?"

"Totally."

He stared at her for a few moments. "Not that that didn't have the desired effect you wanted, but you have a strange sense of priorities, Karina. Have I ever told you that?"

"You wouldn't be the first," she said. "And I would tell you what I'm thinking, but apparently your father speaks both English and Russian, so he'd overhear no matter which language I used."

 _I have no intent of dying today. Not if I can help it._

* * *

"How hard is it to answer your damned communicator?" Jim practically screamed at his own, after trying Camille's number for the fiftieth time. Hearing a low whistle, he looked up to see Juliet passing by, a look on her face that clearly said, "Anger issues much?"

"What?" he exclaimed. "Like you don't ever scream at inanimate objects!"

She shrugged and walked away. "Got me there."

It occurred to Jim that he could just ask Juliet for help, but by the time he thought of it, she was already around the corner. Dashing after her, he ran straight into the objects of his search.

"Bones! Cam! Thank God," Jim cried, grabbing the former of the two by the shoulders and glancing frantically back and forth from him to Camille. "Listen, Kari's missing. So's the Russian kid. Now, I'm not sure, but I think they've been kidnapped by – wait," Jim's voice trailed off as he noticed Bones' sheepish face. "Where the _HELL_ have you two been?"

They were both silent. Jim couldn't remember when he'd ever seen Bones more uncomfortable, and Cam had a determined set to her jaw, the fire in her eyes daring him to demand an answer.

Knowing he'd be likelier to get an answer out of her in the long run but quite frankly finding Bones less intimidating at the moment, he turned back to the latter.

"Bones?"

Bones cleared his throat a few times.

"The pair of you have been missing ever since the swing dancing stopped – seven hours ago! _Where. Have. You. Been_?"

Bones grew increasingly more uncomfortable, then finally, "We may or may not have… gone to another bar."

"And?"

As though hoping she might respond, Bones turned to Camille. She glared at him, killing that pipe dream almost as quickly as it was conceived.

"We…possibly got married."

" _WHAT_?" Jim exploded.

"We didn't actually get married," Cam interjected. "We were about to sign the paper and then sort of…sobered up really fast."

"Realized how stupid we were being," Bones added. When Jim didn't respond, he continued, "We were _drunk_ , Jim!"

"I have been dealing with what could well be an international crisis," Jim fumed, "and YOU TWO WERE GETTING _MARRIED_?"

"Not officially," Cam corrected him.

"Oh, shut up, Mrs. McCoy!"

She shot daggers at him with her eyes, and Jim officially decided he would never address her as such again.

Until it truly applied, anyway.

"Fill us in on the whole 'international crisis' thing, Jim," Camille demanded. And then tell us where the heck you think Kari is, or what they've done with her!"

Jim suddenly switched from fearing for himself to fearing for those who had Karina captive. Right now, Camille looked as though she were about to pulverize something, as soon as she found something worth her time, energy, and rage.

Then again, it didn't take much to be worthy of Cam's rage. He was still reasonably concerned for himself and Bones.

"Walk with me," he told them, headed back for the library. "I'll fill you in on the way. But once we've saved Kari and everything's balanced out a bit, I do want to hear about that little marriage ceremony I was not invited to!"

"Not a chance," the other two intoned simultaneously.

"Oh come on! I was at least supposed to be the best man!"

* * *

Camille frowned as she scanned the library floor. Jim's theory that they were using the tunnels was a good one, she had to admit. It made sense that someone who had infiltrated Starfleet before would have knowledge of the best-kept secret – which, while being the Academy's biggest asset, also happened to be its weakest point when in the hands of their enemies.

It wasn't the enemies that had her worried, either. Once they found Kari – and they _would_ find her – those Russian punks didn't stand a chance. Camille would kill them, bury them, dig them up and clone them, and then kill all their clones. Nobody messed with her Kari. Nobody. All of this, plus what Jim would likely do to them, and the future was looking very bleak for the idiots that had dared to mess with someone they loved.

Bones, of course, would do none of the killing, but would merely stand by and be quite convenient when they needed to be pronounced dead.

Camille couldn't even bring herself to worry about Kari. The possibility of her friend being anything more than beaten around a little caused a nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was impossible for her to contemplate. Just the thought brought tears to her already bloodshot eyes, and Cam swiped them away. Now was not the time to cry. She would make _them_ cry. Like little babushkas.

Although she was pretty sure that might mean grandmothers, not babies, it still worked in this situation. She wasn't big on proper Russian vocabulary.

So she forced herself to focus on something else. Like the fact that Bones had referred to their little marriage venture as "stupid." Well, of course it was stupid! They had been drunk. But did he consider the whole idea of them getting married in general stupid? The idea of "them", stupid? Had she been misreading him for the past year?

She shook her head to clear it. Wrong thing to focus on. They were trying to find an entrance to the blasted tunnels, and she had no idea where they could be. The only entrance she knew of was across the Academy, and they were a bit pressed for time.

Mentally cursing her friend's ability to get herself into trouble, Camille scanned the archives. Honestly, Karina called _her_ accident prone! She may break bones on a regular basis, but Kari was the one who got herself kidnapped just as frequently. Romulans, Russians, it made no difference, apparently. Either one of them was a decent option for captor status.

Her peripherals fell on a glint of something, and she practically knocked over a shelf of books – one of the last left in the library, in fact – trying to inspect it. Yes, a glint of gold in the carpet. Bending down, she felt for a hold on it and pulled upward. Finding it to give way a little but also feeling the ground beneath her start to move, she realized she was standing on the trapdoor and moved away, opening it.

Checking to make sure the librarian was far across the room, she hissed, "Bones! Jim! Get over here!"

The pair of them hurried over. She tensed a little at Bones' presence, remembering how very close she'd gotten to becoming Mrs. Leonard McCoy, and made a mental note to set herself a drink limit. She didn't want to run the risk of ruining this any further than she may have already had. Honestly, she didn't remember whose idea it had been to take it to the chapel, but if she took a wild guess, she'd say it was hers. Bones wasn't impulsive to begin with, but when he was drunk, he was definitely more willing to go along with her heightened impulses, and, she noted with a small thrill of pleasure, a lot more complementary than normal.

"Let's get married," she'd probably slurred, and he'd probably responded, "Of course, beautiful. Whatever you want."

Good lord, what a pair of idiots they'd been.

"This look like a secret passage to you or what?" she asked.

Jim, in prime form, quipped, "Nah. It's just an entrance to a day spa, right, Bones?"

Bones grunted in response, and gestured for Jim to make the first move.

Only eyeing the dark space a little bit, Jim held onto the side of the door and dangled a bit before finally dropping down. He looked up at them before doing so, and saying: "Hey, if this drop is more than fifteen feet, don't have slow music at my funeral, okay?"

He disappeared from their view, and a minor grunt rose from the void. "It's only five feet or so," he called. "You get used to the dark eventually. Jump on down, Cam, I got you."

Camille saw too late Bones going to help her into the hole, but she'd already hopped in. Torn between regretting not letting him help her and thinking it was probably for the best, she felt a brief thrill through her as she fell through the air, only to have Jim catch her by the waist and steady her on the ground.

"Down you get, Bones!" she called up. The pair of them stepped out of the way, and her eyes adjusted just in time to see Bones hit the ground, surprisingly lithe on his feet for a guy with his build. Rising and dusting himself off, he blinked, obviously trying to get a view for where they were.

Cam reached a hand out and touched his arm, feeling that same fluttering sensation she always got. "Right here," she said softly.

He nodded and turned toward them. "So, where to now, comrades?"

Camille narrowed her eyes at him. "Nice choice of vocabulary for this situation."

"Just came to me. I think I might still be a little buzzed."

"Um…Hey, Stalin? Trotsky? I just realized a potential problem..." Jim said, bringing them both back to the present. "We didn't think to bring phasers with us. We're going to have to fight the uprising peasants unarmed."

Bones and Camille turned to each other, and she felt her heart sink. Well, this was going to be fun. Briefly she allowed herself to wonder who was Stalin and who was Trotsky before plunging on ahead, calling back, "It'll have to do. It's not like you two don't have skill in fist fights, and I know martial arts. Plus, something tells me it'll be a lot more satisfying to kick their butts rather than just stunning them. Now come on. The longer we spend gabbing, the more time they have with Kari."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty Three: In which Karina and Chekov are going to make GREAT partners in combat (just saying), Andrei probably bursts a few blood vessels, and the three rescuers confirm the fact that Karina has, in fact, gone crazy. Well, as crazy as they are. Also, Bones is becoming self-aware.**

 **A bit short, but lots of action!**

 **Just a bit of an author's note: It has recently occurred to me that my earlier installments in this series do not exactly hold to specific parts of the environment of the Star Trek universe. Therefore, as I am officially off of school for a month, I have massive amounts of time to edit. So if anyone has any desire to go back and read Breathe again once that happens, please do! I hope it'll be even better this time around! Shout out to the beta reader, HeartofFyrwinde, for editing this series!**

 **Can you tell I'm fond of exclamation marks?!**

 **Anywho, that will be happening over the next month. In the meanwhile, enjoy the chapter, and PLEASE review! :)**

* * *

Karina wriggled her wrists in the rope, trying to make it come loose. While Andrei Chekov was not exactly an amateur when it came to knots, he was also not an expert, and she allowed herself a small smile, as both Andrei and Vladimir's backs were turned. The slightest give of the rope, and she was free.

Making sure the adults had their backs to them still, she lifted her freed right hand slightly, waving it at Pavel. His eyes widened, and a grin broke out on his face, as well.

She jerked her head toward the exit, hoping that his third dialect was body language. He seemed to understand and nodded. But there was something different about the gesture. He didn't know she meant him, too.

Not knowing how to convey this, but knowing she had to try. Karina awkwardly stretched her neck out toward him, indicating that he was to come with her as well. Fortunately for her, Pavel was a pretty smart guy.

Unfortunately for her, he started shaking his head. Karina wasn't the best at reading people, but she knew him well enough to know exactly what he was thinking. He was going to let her escape, give her the best chance of getting away by going with his father willingly.

She started shaking her own head just as vigorously, hoping that, among other things, he was also a mind reader. _Now is not the time to be a hero, you little Russian punk! Now, as soon as we can, we bolt! Together, or not at all, okay?_

If he'd understood any of that, she imagined the look he gave her back to say, _Look, I at least get out of this alive. You don't. You've got to go alone, understand?_

Karina glared at him, hoping she might at least intimidate him into coming with her. _Pavel Andreievich –_

But then it occurred to her – this wasn't a completely bad idea. If she escaped, she could go get Starfleet authority to back her. Phasers. Lots of them. Those would be good. All preferably set on kill so as to make Andrei's little phaser rifle look like a child's toy.

Her features set, demonstrating clearly how much she hated this but knew it couldn't be helped, she turned back to him and nodded once more, and attempted finally to put everything she was thinking into her eyes. _I'm coming back for you. Don't you dare even think I'm not. If I have to haul Pike, Marcus, and anyone else I can get on my side over to Russia, I'll be back._

At that moment, Andrei and Vladimir turned back to them, and she quickly forced her hands back into a position that made her look as though she were still tied up. Thinking fast, she knew she had to distract the men somehow. Talking seemed like her best option.

"So, Andrei," she began, scrabbling for words. "You seem to me like a man who's up for a negotiation every now and then. So tell me, how much is my freedom going to cost me? Admission that my parents were no match for you? The deed to Alaska? Seriously! I can get Alaska back for the Russians and you will go back to the mother country a hero. How does that sound?"

Vladimir moved to stand by her, his phaser rifle hanging limply at his side. "Bargaining for your life won't help you now, child," he told her. "Best to just leave it be."

Andrei whirled on him. "Actually, I'd like to hear what else Miss Bartowski here has in mind," he said. Walking up to her, he said, "You actually dare to plead with me at this point in time, rather than just accepting your inevitable doom? Oh, you have spirit. I'm going to enjoy this."

Karina looked at Pavel, and saw in his eyes a mix of loathing for his father and stark terror for her. Andrei leaned down in front of her and leaned in, whispering, "Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you, girl? Let me tell you, it won't be quick like it was for your parents, but just as painful. Now you know this, what 'negotiations' do you have in mind, pray tell, Karina?"

Karina looked him straight in the eyes. "I guess…you can do what you want with me, sir. If you can catch me first."

As if they were linked mentally, Pavel and Karina acted at the same instant. As he lashed out with his legs, sweeping his father's feet out from under him, Karina lunged upward, slamming into Vladimir and knocking him to the side. It honestly shocked her how well that went. Vladimir was a relatively solid man, and Karina, while she knew how to defend herself, wasn't the strongest of girls. But somehow, she managed to make him lose his balance. His grip on his phaser rifle loosened, and Karina grabbed for it.

It fell into her hands with relative ease. She didn't turn around to see Andrei fall flat on his back, sit up, and let out a cry of rage. All she did was take off running, leaping over her overturned chair and flying down the corridor, screaming back at them, " _Da svendanya_ , comrades!"

* * *

Andrei surged to his feet, another cry of rage emitting from deep within his gut. The girl was far down the corridor by now. Both he and Vladimir had been so thrown off by the sudden moves of the children. Andrei scowled down the hallway, knowing that even if he tried to keep up with her, she'd gotten enough of a headstart that he would be unable to. This complicated things a bit. Even if they managed to get out of Starfleet, they would never get out of the country. Not for at least a month while he arranged something illicit and they laid low.

Rounding on his son, he lunged at him, ready to make any form of violence he'd used in previous years look like child's play. "You traitorous little – "

A hand grabbed his arm, and he looked over at his partner, who was shaking his head. "Not now," Vladimir told him. "Don't waste your time venting your anger, Andrei."

Hating it but realizing Vladimir was right, he drew in a deep shuddering breath. Not caring to be gentle, he grabbed Pavel by the arm and hauled him to his feet. "We're getting out of here. Go."

* * *

Karina ran for about five minutes straight before needing to pause for breath. Maybe she should utilize that track more often. She should realistically have been able to run much farther – Starfleet encouraged its members to excel in fitness, and right now she was failing.

Leaning back against the wall, she looked back the way she'd come, and finally allowed herself to worry. She certainly hadn't expected Pavel to assist in her escape, though she wasn't necessarily surprised that he had. What would his father do to him now? Resolve turned her lungs to iron. She couldn't stop now. He'd helped her escape, now she'd return the favor. Preferably with some heavily-armed back-up.

Taking off down the tunnel once more, she didn't even notice the faint figures growing in the corners of her night vision.

Camille, reflexes sharp as ever, saw her friend coming at top speed and cried, "Scatter!" to Jim and Bones, leaping out of the way. Jim wasn't quite sure why they were doing such a thing, but figured Cam was normally right about these things and followed suit. Bones, however, had slightly slower reflexes, and Karina crashed into him at full speed.

She rolled off of him, and they both lay on the ground, winded. Bones groaned in pain, and Karina stared up at the ceiling, muttering, "Well, broke _that_ chain."

"What?" he moaned.

"Nothing."

"Kari!" Jim exclaimed, his voice a few octaves higher than he would have liked. He ran to her, pulled her to her feet, and practically shouted, "Don't do that to me, kid! At least have the decency to let me know when you're being nabbed, right?"

Karina, however, was having none of it. She pulled away from him and shouted, "Thank goodness I found you guys! We've got to go back!"

Camille nodded. "You're certainly right, we need to go back! Marcus or somebody needs to know so they can seal off the tunnels and – "

Karina shook her head vigorously, panic rising in her eyes and her throat. "No, no!" she exclaimed. "We need to go back where _I_ came from!"

"Vermont?" Jim asked, tilting his head to the side, confused.

Karina groaned and did what the other three could only describe as an interpretive dance of frustration. "NO! I meant back _there_!" She pointed in the direction she'd come.

Camille eyed her. "Did those Russians brainwash you or something?"

"Camille, Pavel's still back there, okay? I'm not leaving here without him – now that I've got backup, anyway. No way I could take them on my own, but with you three, and a phaser rifle of my own, I think we're pretty well matched. Now, come on!"

She ran back down the corridor, Camille chasing after her, screaming, "Kari, wait! You can't just go charging back in there! Granted, that's what I would do, but _you_ can't! Dammit, kid, why do you ever listen to me? Or not? COME ON!"

Bones and Jim stared after their girls, then back at each other.

"Do you think Kari knows we're not armed?" Bones asked, conversationally, as though discussing the weather.

"Nope. Not at all," Jim replied. "Kind of nice that she has that much faith in us, right?"

"This is all just a really stupid idea," Bones growled.

"Oh, yes," Jim quipped. "Completely foolhardy."

"We could die horribly."

"Horribly. Horribly indeed."

Bones stared. Was Jim actually going to agree with him and insist that they run after the females and haul them back? He would carve this day into his memory for all of –

"Wheeeeee!" Jim cried, taking off after the girls, raising his hands in the air and hollering like a madman.

Bones facepalmed. "Typical," he muttered. "Why am I the only responsible one here?"

He ran after them, muttering, "You'd think at least _one_ other person would see the stupidity of this, but no! Honestly, why I hang out with younger people is beyond me! Why would I choose to subject myself to this complete torment…"

His words faded out as he rounded a corner and followed his friends.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four: In which Bones has a "dad moment" and it's adorable, we encounter some rather frustrated Russians, there are phasers! Phasers everywhere! And in which bets are placed.**

 **We're wrapping up! One more chapter after this, and then the epilogue. Thanks to all of you who have stuck with them thus far.**

 **Also... (small voice) Please don't kill me.**

 **I do not own Star Trek or any of its characters. I only own my OCs.**

* * *

Jim, finally catching up to the girls, panting, called, "Hold on just one fraction of a second here, Karina!" Camille skidded to a stop and grabbed the sleeve of Karina's uniform, pulling her friend to a startling halt. Karina teetered on her feet, but Jim caught her before she fell completely off balance. She was almost in a frenzy, and struggled against his hold, trying to start running again.

"Jim, let me go!" she screamed, fighting like crazy. "They're – we – LET GO!"

" _Calm the hell down, young lady!"_ came a voice from behind them, and all three whirled to see Bones standing there, a look that would frighten the most hardened of Starfleet admirals on his face. Karina did, indeed, calm the hell down at his harsh words, and fell perfectly still, eyeing him with a certain amount of terror.

"First of all, we get it! Your friend is in danger, and you want to do everything to get him out of it. But you can't just go rushing headlong into danger. None of us is going to allow it. Not even Camille, hypocritical as that may be."

"Excuse me?" Camille asked.

Jim put a hand on her shoulder. "Just let him roll, Cam. Kill him later."

Camille normally didn't do later, but she reluctantly saw his point.

"Not only will we not let you run into danger without a second thought," Bones continued, "but we also won't put ourselves there as well. If you'd paused for at least a second back there, you would have known we didn't have any weapons. We didn't have time to grab them before we came looking for you. Now at least let us get back and arm ourselves before we go all CIA on the KGB here. Got that?"

Karina's face fell. "They'll be long gone by then, Bones. There's no time."

He put both hands on her shoulders, steadying her. "I'm sorry, Kari. But that's the way it has to be this time."

She unexpectedly wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. Bones was caught off guard, but it stirred some fatherly instinct in him that he thought had lain long dormant. He put his arms around her and let her seek comfort from him, hoping he had the ability to give it.

"This isn't fair, Bones," she said. "I promised him I'd come back. I can't let this happen." A sob tore from her throat, and she cried, "He doesn't deserve this, Bones! Any of it!"

He wasn't quite sure what to say, and looked at Camille. She shook her head, gesturing that this was his moment. Exasperated, he turned to Jim, who shrugged. A great lot of help they would be. Then, as he stared at Cam some more, a part of him thought he understood what Karina was going through. The doctor in him got it all.

"You can't fix everything, kiddo," he said. She pulled back and looked up at him, and then her broken face steeled.

"All right," she said. "Let's go back."

Jim cleared his throat and raised his hand. "Um, guys? Just a thought."

The other three turned to him, and were remarkably surprised to find him looking slightly sheepish. "I may have a solution to this problem. It ends in us being armed, and getting to them in a timely manner as well."

He walked a bit further into the tunnel, then came back armed with four phasers. "This might be a bit easier to lug around than that rifle, right, Kar?"

Karina's jaw dropped, Camille gave a laugh of relief and awe, and Bones shouted, "When, exactly, were you planning to tell us you knew about this?"

"Didn't want to break up the moment," Jim muttered. "Dad Bones is kind of fun to watch. But also, I didn't see it until about thirty seconds ago." He led them down the tunnel about ten feet to find an open compartment in the wall with a neon orange sign on it, filled to the brim with phasers.

"What the heck is this?" Karina exclaimed, running her hands along the phasers in shock.

"These tunnels _are_ supposed to be an escape route, Kari," Jim explained. "My guess is that the ones who manufactured them installed this so there would be a way to arm the escapees should they be pursued. No matter what you're using them for, this is a pretty handy little compartment, right? I wouldn't be surprised if there were a lot of them along here."

"How did we not know about this?" Camille demanded. "That might have come in handy for the pair of you a year ago!"

Then she shook her head, taking one of the phasers from Jim. "Never mind. Like Kari said, we have very little time. Lead the way, Kar."

Karina took off running. Though this lent hope to her, she also knew it was very likely the Chekovs and Vladimir had already vacated the tunnels, their imminent exposure lending their feet speed. She shuddered. Was she ever going to see Pavel again, or was he long gone by now?

* * *

"These blasted tunnels!" Andrei muttered, turning around in a circle, trying to get his bearings. "What were you thinking, losing that map, Vladimir?"

Vladimir shrugged, the one who was currently in charge of keeping an eye on Pavel to make sure he didn't bolt. "Well, at the moment, Andrei, I thought it was perfectly secure in my pocket. I was mostly focused on hauling your son down here, like you asked me to. Whose idea was it to kidnap the girl, rather than just getting out of the country as soon as possible?"

"She was interfering," Andrei muttered.

When it came to questioning his father, Chekov had never been the most bold of kids. But he was curious. "What would she have found so soon, Father, let me ask you that? Have you done anything _more_ in this country…besides murder her parents?" The utter hatred he felt for the man manifested itself and shone through in that last sentence to its highest degree.

"Be quiet!" Andrei hissed, selecting a corridor. "This way."

"You're sure?" Vladimir asked.

"Of course I'm sure!" Andrei shouted. "Now, come on! We're going, and we're going now."

He surged toward the opening, but as soon as he reached the archway's threshold, found his path blocked by a tall, solid figure in a cadet uniform.

"Hello. My name is James Tiberius Kirk," the figure said. "You kidnapped my little sister. Prepare to die."

And he punched the completely stunned Andrei straight in the nose.

Once again, Andrei found himself knocked to the ground. Jim leveled his phaser at the weaponless Vladimir, who held his hands in the air, releasing Chekov. There was nothing on Vladimir's face but a look of "I told you so."

Chekov stared at the older cadet. "Karina doesn't have an older brother," he muttered.

Jim stared right back, not understanding a word of the Russian that had just come out of the kid's mouth. "No spreckensie Russian," he attempted lamely.

Camille appeared in the doorway behind him, Bones hot on her heels, and shook her head. "Right, Jim. Like that wasn't offensive at all."

The small sea of older cadets parted as a whir of motion darted through their midst, and Karina threw herself at him like a missile, shrieking, " _Pavel_!" She hit him with the usual amount of force, but Chekov was used to this by now. He'd already braced himself for impact, but said impact rather paled in comparison to the fact that she was currently squeezing the breath out of his lungs.

Not that he particularly cared. He returned the embrace, and she muttered, "Told you I'd come back, didn't I?"

Jim approached Vladimir. "I'm going to give you one chance to give me a good reason for letting you escape. But your friend here won't be so lucky, unfortunately. Bones, keep an eye on him."

Camille walked over to where Karina was still attached to Pavel like a tick on a dog, and said, "Good news, kid. This is over. You get to stay here." Then she paused, frowning. "Wait. Did you understand that?"

He rolled his eyes. " _Da_. I got zat."

Camille then crossed over to Andrei and poked at his limp foot with her own. Bones, crouching beside him, looked up at her. "You may want to keep your distance, Cam."

"Oh, please, Bones! Look at the man! He's obviously out like a light – "

But Bones, who had bent down to examine Andrei, could only respond with widening eyes as the man rose and, in one fluid movement mirroring the one his son had used on him earlier, kicked out, sweeping Camille's feet out from under her. She went down hard, the wind knocked out from under her.

Bones, his rage provoked, roared and launched himself at Andrei, but the man was too quick. He delivered a swift punch to Bones' jaw and grabbed the phaser from his hand, using it to knock Bones on the head. Bones fell to the ground, a groan emanating from deep in his gut.

"Bones!" Camille shrieked, grabbing from her own prostrate position at Andrei's feet, but he danced out of her way. Now nothing stood between him and Karina, not even Jim.

Jim took his eyes off Vladimir for an instant, crying, "Kari, look out!"

In that instant, Vladimir jumped at Jim, pinning him to the ground. "Whatever you're going to do," he grunted, "do it quickly, Andrei!"

Andrei fired the phaser, but there was one thing he did not account for: his son's reflexes, and innate instinct to protect.

Chekov had been able to foresee his father's plan from the instant the phaser hit his hands. He didn't think, he just acted, shoving Karina to the ground. He went down just a split second after her – but the split second was all that counted. The phaser beam missed Karina, catching Chekov squarely on the skull.

Jim kicked up, hitting Vladimir right in the proper spot to make him sing soprano for a week. Camille, meanwhile, recovered her phaser and dropped Andrei to the ground, the look of shock and horror on his face remaining even after knocked unconscious.

Karina, meanwhile, had figured out that her friend on top of her had gone rather still. Frantic, she rolled him off of her onto the cement floor. "No, no, _no_! NO!" Feeling as though the ground had dropped out from under her, the tears started flowing again freely. "You are _not_ allowed to quit on me yet, okay? You just can't!"

Jim knelt down in front of her. "And he won't, Kari," he said, grabbing her by the shoulders to make sure she paid attention to him in her panicked state. "Look."

Handing her the phaser Andrei had dropped, he said, "It's only set to stun. Should we probably get the kid down to the clinic? Yeah. But will he live? Also yeah."

Karina blinked. How had she only ever stopped to consider that the phaser would be set to kill? Perhaps because it had been in the hands of a sadist, and that had blinded her to the fact that Bones had set it to stun earlier. And sure enough, as she glanced down at Chekov, the rise and fall of his chest told her he was still breathing.

She sighed in relief. "Good. Really good."

Vladimir, who had been doubled over in pain, managed to rise. Jim rounded on him, but he held his hands in the air, sliding his rifle over to Jim.

"You've won," he said. "If I give myself up to you now, will you at least let me get out of the country?"

Jim shook his head. "Believe me, I'd almost like to. You weren't exactly helpful, but you also didn't exactly hinder our progress. Up until the end there. Whose side are you on, anyway?"

"My own," Vladimir muttered. "Whichever works best at the moment."

"Um, Jim," Camille said, from her spot behind Karina. She'd come up, knelt by her friend, and squeezed her shoulders, knowing that though Kari may not admit it, she needed it in that moment. "We may not be able to get all three of these guys out of here. Bones is out cold, too. We'd need at least two of us for each of them, right?"

Bones stirred over in the corner he'd been laying in. "I'll be fine in a few minutes, woman," he muttered crankily. "I could probably use a bit of help, but I can walk."

She moved to sit by his side. "Help I'm willing to offer, cowboy."

Vladimir raised his hand, as though a schoolboy in class. "I can bring Andrei," he said. "That will leave the pair of you free to assist Pavel."

Jim frowned. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"You can," came a weak voice from in between him and Karina. Chekov was stirring slightly, his face screwed up in pain. In his current disabled state, he'd only been able to form the words in Russian, and Karina looked from him to Jim, nodding.

"Pavel says he's trustworthy, Jim," she said. "I believe him. Let him help."

Jim rose, reaching out a hand and assisting Vladimir to his feet, too. "Why are you so eager to help us?" he asked. "One minute, you're kidnapping the kids. The next, you're offering to help us get out of here with minimal difficulties?"

Vladimir shrugged. "Like I told you, I'm on my own side. Perhaps if I cooperate, things will go easier for me. Meanwhile, shouldn't you…?" His voice trailed off, and he gestured to Chekov, still lying on the ground.

Jim shook his head. "No," he said, training the phaser on Vladimir once again. "I won't take my eyes off you until you get your friend over there up on his feet and moving. You'll go in front of us, got that?"

Vladimir nodded, and moved to get Andrei, lifting an arm over his shoulder and pulling his friend to his feet. "Come on, Andrei," he said. "It would appear this venture of ours is finished."

Karina helped Pavel sit up. His eyes were still closed, and she could tell from his tense features that he was still experiencing a great deal of pain. "Bones?" she asked, not able to keep the overwhelming concern out of her voice. "Should he still be hurting this much?"

Bones, with an amount of pain himself, rubbed his back and said, "He took a phaser beam to the head, Karina. I honestly think that's to be expected, though I've personally never dealt with it."

Karina nodded and turned back to Pavel. Barely coherent, he was following the distant sound of her voice and turned toward her.

"It's over?" he asked, as though needing confirmation from her in spite of Camille's earlier reassurances.

She smiled and hugged him, careful to not cause him any more pain, but it soon became apparent that the only source of pain was from his head. "It's over. Your father won't be chasing you down any more."

Jim leaned down next to her, handing her his phaser. "I got him, Kari," he said, lifting Chekov off the ground. "Keep that thing on those two." He nodded toward Vladimir and Andrei in front of them.

Camille, meanwhile, put Bones' arm around her and looked after the two groups in front of them. "Not a bad ending," she said. "January just kind of isn't our month, is it, cowboy?"

Bones shrugged. "I really don't need that much help, Cam. I'm fine."

If anything, she pulled him tighter against her. "Oh, no, you don't. I won't deal with your pride here. You let someone else be the doctor when we get back there, and Bones…let me help you now. Please."

The pleading in her eyes was something he'd never seen before. The idea that someone would be so desperate to assist him awakened emotions in him that he'd long thought lay dormant, and he swallowed hard.

"Lead the way, boss."

* * *

Jim walked out of the room, shaking his head. Oh, how he loved to see Bones laid up for once. He frowned. No, it wasn't that he loved it. That was almost cruel. He just liked to see his friend, who was determined to take care of everyone as the doctor, subjected to letting someone else be his caretaker. Likely that would end up being Cam, but right now, she was with Karina in the Russian kid's room. He'd pass them on his way back.

Camille met him in the doorway, a small smile on her face. She inclined her head back into the room she'd come from. Jim peered in and saw that both kids were dead asleep, Karina in a chair by the bed, stretched out in what had to be an uncomfortable position so that her head was lying on the bed a few inches from the kid's arm.

He turned to Cam, whose smile had turned into a full-fledged grin. "I give it a year," she said, and Jim knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Is that a bet, Osbourne?"

"How much you willing to stake on it, Kirk?"

He considered the scene in front of him. "Give me a few hours. I'll get back to you."

She shook her head and went in to Bones. Jim walked up to Karina, smiling down at her. He'd called her his little sister back in the tunnels, and it truly was how he felt about her – or, how he imagined it would feel if he had a little sister. She'd given him a couple of good scares today, and he cringed each time he contemplated how it could have gone differently.

Bending down, he lifted her into his arms the exact same way he'd done with the kid on the bed earlier – he never _could_ remember his name; it wasn't as though Karina talked about him a lot. In fact, if he hadn't seen what he had back there, when she'd been convinced he was dead, Jim might have thought Karina didn't care all that much about the kid. But there was a lot more to his little sister than what was on the surface, apparently, in spite of what she may want him to think.

As he made his way back to her room, he looked down at her, sleeping serenely, only frowning a bit as he'd lifted her, but then settling in against his chest, he smiled and shook his head. "A year?" he muttered to himself. "After that display back there in the tunnels, nah. More like two months."


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-Five: In which Bones is stubborn but Camille is more so, Sulu plays wise counselor, Bones has another dad moment - because we all need more of those, the past is laid to rest once and for all, and there is fluff.**

 **Here's the last official chapter! Come back on Monday for the epilogue, and, as always, there will be a preview of my next installment a week from today. Hopefully I'll have come up with a title for it by then...**

 **Speaking of titles, hopefully you guys saw that I've chosen to call this series "Statistical Impossibilities", because let's face it, it's full of them! Let's talk about my intentions for it a bit more...**

 **So, I'm going to go on hiatus with this series after the preview of #3 until 2017. I have my reasons for wanting to start the next year afresh with this particular installment, all of which I will actually include in my author's note beforehand. It's been rather a crazy year, I think for everyone involved, if social media is to tell me anything.**

 **However, just because I'm not updating the main storyline until 2017, does not mean there won't be some of the one shots! (I'm thinking of just retitling that one Statistical Impossibilities, because why not? It's a companion to the series, after all! I have two in mind, which will be up on the 26th and 30th, hopefully.**

 **Now, a word from our people:**

 **Karina: So, you guys are awesome! Thanks for reading about our story!**

 **Camille: We really hope you come back for the next one.**

 **Bones: Sure, come back. If you want more near-death experiences, black holes, and pointy-eared hobgoblins.**

 **Jim: Don't spoil it for them, Bones!**

 **Chekov: They've seen ze mowie, Keptin. I'm pretty sure they know by now.**

 **Jim: DON'T GIVE IT AWAY! THEY HAVEN'T READ THAT FAR! THEY DON'T KNOW THAT I'M CAPTAIN!**

 **Karina: Movie, Jim. Movie.**

 **browneyedgirl29: And with that little fourth-wall breaker, enjoy Chapter Twenty-Five!**

* * *

"I'm telling you, woman, I'm fine to go back on shift!" Bones growled, attempting to get past Camille, who was blocking the way into the clinic. "Now let me by!"

"You most certainly are not!" Camille shot right back. In the way she had of paralyzing him with a touch, she put a hand in the middle of his chest and pushed him back through the hallways. "Now I don't care if you're not supposed to sleep that much, you have a concussion and you will at least rest for a while. Kapeesh?"

Bones groaned, throwing his hands up in the air, but still moving. It made a rather entertaining image for anyone passing them, the diminutive woman pushing along the six-foot-tall, solidly built doctor. He was putty in her hands, and she the easily amused child to do with him as she willed.

Eventually they made it to the coffee station. She parked his butt in a chair and leveled him with a gaze that would have struck fear into the heart of a much braver man than Bones. "Now stay put," she demanded, moving off to get them coffee.

Camille had had coffee with Bones often enough to know that he liked his strong and black. She wasn't into what was considered stereotypically "foofy" coffee like some women she knew, but she did like at least a bit of creamer in it. After entering her order in the processor, it took thirty seconds for the machine to yield their drinks to her.

Coming back with the steaming hot mugs, she sat down across from him and asked, "So how _is_ your head, cowboy?"

Bones rolled his eyes, taking a huge swig of his drink. "As I was saying earlier, I am _fine_. This imposed period of rest is ridiculous. I should be going about my business like normal."

Camille mirrored the expression. "And yet if it were me with the concussion, you know you would be telling me to do the exact same thing, so can I be faulted?" Tilting her head, she considered her last statement. "No, on second thought, you don't know. There's no way you can be in your right mind at this point, right?"

Bones muttered, "Ignoring that." They passed the next few moments in companionable silence, then he asked, "So how is Karina? And her friend?"

Camille frowned and shook her head. "She's being stupid again," she replied.

Bones looked skeptical. "One thing that kid isn't is stupid," he said. "So if she's acting that way, we might need to do something about it."

Camille's jaw dropped. "This from the man who once accused me of interfering in her business. Where is this coming from?"

"Let's just say I've had a change of heart. Or that perhaps this merits a bit of interference. Either way, just tell me what's going on here, Cam, so I can actually come to that conclusion for myself."

Camille sighed, sitting back in her seat, and rolled her eyes. "Apparently something about the fact that his father killed her parents makes their friendship awkward or some ridiculous assumption."

Bones gave a snort of derision. "Is she serious?"

"It would appear so. Or at least, she thinks she is."

"It's not the kid's fault!" Bones exclaimed. "The sins of the father should never have to affect the son. Trust me, I should know." The words were out of his mouth before he could hold them back, and he snapped it shut, a look of regret on his face.

Camille leaned across to him. "You know, you don't have to hide from me. Wherever that came from, you can tell me."

His jaw set, and she threw her hands up in the air. "You, Leonard McCoy, are the most stubborn man I have ever met!"

"And you, Camille Osbourne, are the pot calling the kettle black," he poked back at her. The fire in her eyes dimmed when she saw the teasing in his. Deciding she should probably know at some point, he began to explain.

"My ex-wife, Nancy, and I, broke up after I got out of med school. We weren't married at that point, of course, just dating. She disappeared for a year and then showed up back on my doorstep, pregnant and feigning regret for leaving me. I was stupid enough to believe her.

"After the honeymoon, however – "

"She showed her true colors," Camille said. "I remember you telling me this."

He nodded. "Well, I still look on our daughter as my own, in spite of the fact that I have nothing but contempt for her mother and I'm not her father by blood. She might as well be mine. Nancy never cared for her. The only reason she came crawling back to me…" His face darkened in a glare that would have struck terror into anyone's heart but Camille's. "She never wanted Joanna. But her parents saw right through her charades and she couldn't afford an abortion. So she turned on the acting skills and came back to me."

Camille nodded and let it sit in silence for a few minutes, then asked, "But what does that have to do with the sins of the father not affecting the son…or daughter, in this case?"

"I just never wanted her mother's poor decisions to affect Joanna's life," Bones said, as though it should have been obvious. "Plus, my old man did enough in his life to affect me, even though I know he didn't intend to. I just…get it, you know?"

Camille eyed him thoughtfully. "Maybe you could be the one to talk to Kari, then."

Bones started. "Wait, me?"

"Yeah. She's started to tune me out. Maybe she's not as deaf to your voice as she is to me. She respects you, you know, Bones. I never knew what it was about you that made that so, exactly, until I realized: You're a dad. She senses that, and therefore respects and values your opinion. Not that she doesn't mine, she's just stubborn towards me."

Bones considered the matter, then nodded. "Okay…I'll do it."

* * *

Sulu had an inkling when he went to the track that day of what he'd find. And sure enough, there was Chekov, running laps like no one's business, completely oblivious to his approach. He wasn't quite sure, but he thought the kid seemed a bit more absorbed in it than normal.

The Academy wasn't exactly a gossip chain, but depending on who you knew, word traveled fast. Sulu had heard from Juliet, who had heard from Camille, about all that had gone down a week ago with Chekov's father and Karina and the tunnels. From what he understood, the older Mr. Chekov was being put away for a long time, and Sulu thought his younger friend would be a lot better off for it.

He'd also heard of Andrei's previous crimes…and how they connected to Karina. And how Karina felt about the matter.

Sulu sat down on a bench beside the track. Time to test just how absorbed Chekov was in his task at hand. As the Russian passed, Sulu raised a hand in greeting and, as he predicted, Chekov ran straight past. Sighing and shaking his head, Sulu stood up and cupped his hands around his mouth.

"Hey, Chekov!" he called, and Chekov literally skidded to a halt. Sulu waved him back and gestured for him to have a seat on the bench beside him.

The pair of them hadn't really interacted since the incidents of last week. In fact, Sulu was slightly jealous he hadn't gotten in on it. He knew that was an unfounded emotion, of course, but one that he couldn't help nonetheless. Not that he particularly thrived on adrenaline, or violence for that matter, but it sounded as though Chekov Sr. was a jerk. And he didn't enjoy seeing jerks win. What he wouldn't have given to be a part of taking him down.

Now that Chekov was there, though, Sulu wasn't quite sure how to address the topic. "So…." he said. "How's the phaser hit?"

Chekov unconsciously rubbed his head where his father's phaser beam had hit him. "Better," he said. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

"That's good," Sulu said. He was awful at this stuff. He knew that something needed to be addressed here, but he wasn't sure how to do it. Karina herself probably would have been better at it, but she wasn't going to do it anytime soon.

"I guess you got a taste of what it's like doing battle with Karina and her friends, too, then?" Sulu asked. "Kind of exhilarating, isn't it?"

Chekov shrugged, and Sulu wondered for a second if he hadn't understood. After all, he didn't really talk to Karina, so he had no way of knowing how far along the kid was in his English learning, but when Chekov responded, Sulu was forced to recall that assumption. Apparently Chekov was smarter than most people gave him credit for.

"Vould have been…except now she isn't speaking to me," he said in that heavily accented voice of his. "At all."

"Yeah, I heard about your dad and her parents," Sulu said. "That's not exactly something you can shove under the rug."

Chekov looked confused. "How vould you shove zat under a rug?"

Sulu groaned inwardly. "Figure of speech. Tell Karina she needs to go over that with you. Quickly."

"If she ewer actually talks to me again."

Sulu was silent for a few minutes. Once again, he realized just how bad he was at this sort of thing. But he was nothing if not a realist. He was incredibly skilled at waking up and smelling the coffee, something he wasn't sure was a trait of Chekov's. Sometimes he wished he _weren't_ so good at it. But in that way, he sensed he could be good for his young friend, and vice versa.

"Look, I wish I could tell you that she'll come around eventually and stop being such a girl about this, but the truth is, I can't. Because I don't know. And she may not. But the fact of the matter is, even if she doesn't, I don't think your entire life is wrapped up in one friendship, is it?"

Chekov shrugged again. "You do know she vas ze first person to actually speak to me here at ze Academy, right?"

"That may be true, but now that you're learning English, you aren't just limited to her, are you?" Sulu asked. A thought occurred to him. Unless… Nah. He wasn't going to go there. There was really no reason to do so, as his point still stood regardless.

"Look, Chekov, I get it. She's your best friend, probably. But let's face it, kid, if she can't see that you're nothing like your father, and that she won't be betraying her parents to be friends with you, then she doesn't deserve your friendship. Say it was the other way around. Her father had killed yours. Would you pin that crime on her, as well?"

Chekov shook his head, and somehow Sulu knew it wasn't a lie, or an automatic response. Lying didn't appear to come naturally to Chekov. Which was a trait Sulu admired.

"There's your answer, then."

Sulu stood to prepare for his own laps around the track, and Chekov sat in silence for a while. When he finally spoke, it had been so long, Sulu had nearly forgotten he was there.

"So, you're saying I should just…let her come to me?"

Sulu nodded. "And if she doesn't, it's not like you're without friends here. You're welcome at my door anytime, kid. Now come on. I want to see if I've gotten any faster than the last time we raced."

Chekov, smiling for the first time that day, jumped to his feet and lined up beside Sulu. "Just keep telling yourself zat."

* * *

Karina heard the door buzz. She frowned. It wasn't like Cam to forget her key, and it wasn't in its normal place on her desk chair. Getting up off the bed, she opened it to find Bones standing there.

"Cam sent you, didn't she?" she asked, sighing in resignation.

He looked as though he was going to respond in the negative, then seemed to think "to the devil with it" and said, "Yeah, she did. Am I still welcome?"

Karina motioned him in, though she didn't necessarily look happy about the matter in general. Bones took a seat at her desk and she sat down across from him on her bed.

"Okay, kid. I'm not going to blast you with what I think. Tell me what you're thinking. Because Cam gave me her version of the story, what she's observed. But I want to hear it from your lips before I believe anything on my own."

Karina blew out a breath and watched her hair fly out of her face.

"What am I supposed to do here, Bones?" she said. "Andrei Chekov killed my parents. Wouldn't most people say that's reason enough that Pavel and I shouldn't be friends? I don't like it any more than he does, but I can't betray them."

Bones looked incredulous. "Karina, how is it betraying them? It's not like you're palling around with Andrei himself! The sins of the father shouldn't affect the son."

Karina frowned. "But, Bones…my parents are dead! He took them away from me! What am I supposed to do?"

"Get over it, maybe?" Bones snorted. Her eyes widened, and he only slightly regretted the possible insensitivity of that statement. But the ridiculousness of this entire issue was beginning to drive him batty.

"Look, Karina, I know if I try to force this on you, it'll only make you more likely to refuse to do so. So I'll tell you what I think, but I'll let you decide whether to act on it or not.

"I don't see why, if you knew before you escaped, if this is going to be such a big deal now, why it wasn't back then. Why didn't you want to get any trace of all things Chekov as far away from you as possible? It would have been simpler for you to just leave him behind and let his father haul him back to Russia. So why didn't you do that?"

Karina hung her head, silent. Bones pressed on.

"Kari, I saw you back there. You obviously care about the kid. _You know that's not what I meant!"_ he exclaimed when she eyed him accusingly. "Come on, kid, I'm not Camille! What I mean is, do you remember your actions when you thought that phaser was set to kill? You about had a heart attack, okay? And might I add that he threw himself in front of it, thinking the exact same thing as you, because he knew if he didn't, you'd get hit?"

Karina was looking up at him now, tears forming in her eyes. "I remember, Bones."

"Great. You two have a great friendship going on here. Why mess with that?"

For the second time in a week, she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, and for the second time, he felt rather awkward about the whole matter, but let his dad instincts take over.

"You're right," she muttered.

"I usually am, yet people are always surprised," he replied.

"So what do I do now?" she asked.

"Well, first of all, you realize that your parents would probably want you to make peace with their passing and accept that they weren't around for your childhood. Then you do it. And then you go apologize to your friend for being a little bit of a brat. And you know I mean that in the best possible way, right?"

"No, you don't," she said, smiling up at him knowingly.

"Yeah, you're right. You were just kind of a brat. Nothing good about that."

"I know it," she said, regret in her eyes. "Thanks for knocking some sense into me, Bones."

"Sure, kid. That's what I'm around for."

* * *

Karina didn't particularly care that it was midnight. She'd made her peace with herself, with her parents' passing, and decided that it was satisfying enough for her that their killer was safely incarcerated. She didn't have to transfer her feelings of loathing for him to his son – one of her best friends.

Now it was time to mend that friendship.

She buzzed on the door and waited. There was no answer and she moved off to the side, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. It was rather difficult for her to keep still on normal occasions, but when she was nervous, it became doubly so.

Finally, after what seemed like eternities, the door slid open. Karina, who couldn't keep a healthy sleep schedule if she tried, found it hard to contemplate the fact that Pavel had obviously been asleep when she'd buzzed, but it was quite obvious from his tousled hair and slightly glazed over eyes, which were now widening in shock that she'd actually made the effort to seek him out.

The pair of them just stood there for a few minutes, until Karina finally broke the silence with, "Are you going to let me in or are we just going to stand here and let your room air out?"

She knew it probably sounded slightly mean, and winced. Adding to her already quite long list of failures in this friendship so far had definitely _not_ been her intent when she'd come here, and she didn't intend to leave here with that being her only accomplishment. Fortunately, Pavel had tougher skin than she'd thought. He just nodded and let her in.

She sat down on the extra bed, but when he took a seat on the floor across from her, she slid down to join him on his level. This discussion would be better if she could look him in the eyes without either of them having to crane their necks.

Once again, there was more silence. It wasn't that Karina didn't know what she'd come here to say, she just was processing where to begin. _I'm sorry for being such a brat,_ or _I'm completely over the fact that your father killed my parents._ Neither seemed quite adequate. And the latter certainly was not true. It still felt slightly odd to her that she had befriended the son of her parents' murderer.

She almost dared to hope that he would start the conversation, but after a few moments, Karina realized she should have known better. Of the pair of them, Pavel was the listener, and he wouldn't offer up his opinion on the matter until she spoke, if he did at all.

Sighing, she decided to just plow forward, devil-may-care. It was better than any other plan she had.

"So, how's life?" she asked, and then winced again.

He looked at her, confused, and when he spoke, his voice was incredulous.

"'How's life?'" he asked, a small smile tilting his mouth, slightly distilling his complete shock at her lame attempt at small talk. "I save your life, you ignore me for a week, and what you come up with is 'how's life'?"

"Technically the phaser wasn't set to kill," Karina muttered, looking down at the floor. It infuriated her to no end that she still had to point that out. Was tact completely unknown to her?

"You're missing the point," he said. Karina forced herself to look back up at him, and saw that the smile had grown slightly larger. She was halfway relieved, halfway slightly indignant. That little Russian punk was having a laugh at her expense right now! But at least he wasn't peeved beyond all belief.

She shook her head. "I'm glad I entertain you. Real glad."

He shrugged her sarcasm off. "It's not often I see you this nervous," he said. "You're usually the confident one."

Karina was a bit taken aback at that one. "I am?" she asked, confused.

"Well, in comparison."

"Fair enough. Okay, well, this is going to be awkward for me, so just humor me a little bit here." Sighing, she plowed forward. "I'mreallysorryI'vebeensuchabratthepastweekIjustwas dealingwithalotofcrapleftoverfromgrowingupwithoutmyparentsandknowingitwasyourfatherwho killedthemwasjustkindof – "

"Karina, slow down!" Pavel cut her off. "I understood…none of that."

Karina screeched to a halt and took a deep breath. "Okay. Let me try again. I'm sorry I've been such a brat. I was making an excuse for myself there, but there really is no excuse. No excuse whatsoever. I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "It's not that inexcusable. Our parents didn't exactly leave a great foundation for us to be friends, did they?"

"I know they didn't, but that doesn't change the fact that it was wrong of me to project that onto you. It's just…" She trailed off, and when she resumed speaking, her eyes were downcast and her voice was small. "You don't know what it's like," she said. "Growing up without your parents there. Having absolutely no family to speak of. It made me bitterer than I would like to admit. My mom told me once – in fact, it's one of the few things I remember her saying to me – that it was an accomplishment to stay soft in a hard world like this. And I always made it my goal to do that. I thought I'd done it.

"But that was because I pushed all those feelings of bitterness to the side, allowed them to fester. And once I was face to face with their murderer, and he just so happened to be the father of one of my best friends – " She cut off when his head snapped up at that one, and she smiled at him. "What? You don't think it fits?"

His formerly serious face erupted into that grin of his, and he said, "No. I think it fits perfectly."

There was yet another moment of silence, but it wasn't an uncomfortable one this time. Realizing she should probably get back to what she was saying, Karina abruptly continued.

"Anyway, the bitterness washed back over me, and I couldn't think straight. Of course, this was _after_ we were out of the woods, you know. Once your father and Vladimir were behind bars. It just kind of hit the morning after. I somehow began to associate you with your father's crimes. And that was why I didn't talk to you at all. Can you see that?"

He nodded, but there was no condemnation in his eyes. Karina couldn't believe that she was actually forgiven for this. She'd acted as though his friendship meant so little to her, as though whatever the father did was automatically passed on to the son. And sitting there now, she had no idea how she could have been so ridiculous.

Because even though she'd only known Andrei Chekov for a short time, she'd known his son for long enough to know that the pair of them were nothing alike.

Karina was shocked when Pavel actually spoke, but, in a rare moment, he actually showed her what was behind the wall he normally built up about his past.

"You said I don't know what it's like…Actually, I do," he said. Karina frowned, and he continued. "I never told you…when my mother died, my father distanced himself. Pteechka was always his favorite, mostly because she looked like our mother. She takes after him, though…in any way that can be considered good. I'm the exact opposite. Look like him, take after our mother. For some reason I didn't manage to tame him the way she had, though."

The entire time he'd been speaking, the words had fallen out of him in a rush, though not quite as much as when Karina had spoken earlier. He now paused awkwardly, looking almost pained from what he'd told her. In that instant, Karina realized he was probably the most awkward person she'd ever known – including herself, which was an accomplishment. But it wasn't an altogether unfortunate quality. In fact, it was even more endearing.

"Anyway, now that I've said it, I realize that you probably had it worse than I did, because you never knew what your parents were like. But at least you didn't have one that you'd rather not know, right?" He gave a tiny smile, as though willing her to understand what he meant.

Karina nodded. "I guess neither of us has the best legacy going on here, right? So…" She pulled something from behind her, and his eyes widened as he saw what it was.

"Where in the name of the mother country did you get that?" he asked, reaching out for the box of _blini_ pancakes she'd produced.

She shrugged. "I made them," she said. "Figured food's as good as anything for a peace offering."

Pavel stared at her, his jaw practically on the floor. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I had anything resembling good Russian food?"

Karina's face lit with a satisfied smirk. "I figured it had been a while. So, as I was saying, what do you think? Can the son of a Russian arms dealer and the daughter of an American CIA agent find it in them to look past their parents' past and be friends?"

He looked back and forth from her to the box in his lap and shook his head, his grin the biggest she'd ever seen it. "You crazy _Americanka_ ," he said.

"I try," she said. "Now, try those things, you little Russian punk! I want to hear how I did!"

He eyed her. "Have you ever actually…cooked before?"

"Details. Eat."

* * *

That night, Karina rolled over in bed and heard something crinkle under her pillow. Smiling, she reached underneath and took it out. A picture of her parents' smiling faces stared up at her. In her mother's arms rested a tiny bundle, and Karina knew that it was her as a baby.

A few days earlier, Captain Pike had called her into his office. Someone had apparently requested to see her. He wouldn't give his name, just said it was urgent.

The man had been from the CIA, in fact, he'd been her dad's superior.

"Great agent, your dad," he said. "Seriously, Anthony was one of my best. And I wish I'd looked into what had been done with you after their death. I really do. But, um…he gave me this, after you were born."

He'd given her the picture, almost shyly, though he didn't seem like a man who that term could be used to describe on a regular basis. She'd taken it and stared, wide-eyed at the image of her parents.

Her father was a tall, blonde, Scandinavian-looking man with a clean-shaven, baby face. Her mother, on the other hand, was a short, petite woman. Karina took in her mother's face and laughed softly.

"You look just like her, you know," he said. "Do you have any questions about them?"

She'd found out that her parents had met when they were thirteen, but hadn't dated until they were in their early twenties. Both of their parents were gone by that point – Mom's parents hadn't approved of Dad, and she was too respectful of them to oppose that view. "Can't imagine why," the man, who'd introduced himself as Agent Dixon. "Anthony was one of the most straight and narrow men I'd ever meant."

Karina learned that her middle name came from her paternal grandmother, Louise. Her mother had actually even gone to the Academy for a few years before dropping out.

"What made her do that?" she asked, frowning. Would her parents approve of her path in life? Could she continue in Starfleet if they wouldn't?

"I couldn't say. I'd say she did it for him. From everything he said, she'd loved it here. She just loved him more, I guess. And it's no kind of relationship when one of you is off-planet all the time. No way to start a family."

Karina nodded. Jim had told her on a regular basis how difficult it had been growing up with a mother off planet on a regular basis, and she knew exactly what it would have been like.

"What field was she in? Do you know?" she'd asked.

Dixon had smiled. "Xenolinguistics," he said. "Linda could speak, oh, I don't know, ten different languages. Most of them were alien dialects, actually. What about you, then?"

Karina hadn't been able to contain her grin. "Xenolinguistics."

"She's pretty damn good, too," Pike had put in from the other side of the room. Karina jumped. Both she and Dixon had forgotten he was even in the room.

Dixon turned back to her, looking as proud as if she'd been his own daughter. "You really are her clone, then." He held his hand out to shake. "I've got to run, but I'm glad to have been able to provide you with some answers to the past, Karina. Your parents would be proud."

Karina now looked at the picture, not wanting to take her eyes off of her parents. She had quite forgotten what they'd looked like. Her mother did, in fact, look like a woman who had remained soft in a hard world. Karina blinked back the tears that threatened.

Her reverie was broken by Camille in the next bed.

"So, that marathon that they're having in March…you think I should sign up for it?"

Karina looked over at her. "You will pull a muscle. You will be forced to stay in the clinic for at least a night. And this time Bones may actually strangle you in your sleep."

Camille gave her a knowing smile. "So I should do it, then?"

Karina shrugged and rolled over, smiling to herself. "Knock yourself out."

She needed a picture of Cam, too.


	26. Epilogue

**And at last we come to the end! Once again, large thanks to all of you who read, larger still thanks to all of you who reviewed! On Friday will come a preview of Installment #3, Down to the Wire, as promised. Be looking for my one shots, and see you all again in 2017!**

 **Also, as a note...I've officially been on for six months. I checked my profile today. It's been an interesting time, I will say :) Hope you all appreciate the classical music reference in here.**

 **Oh, wait! Small details about Down to the Wire. It has come to my attention that while I listed this as a Bones/OC fan fiction, it turned more into a Chekov/OC. So, for those of you who came into it deceived and hoping for more of a focus on Cam and Bones, I'm deeply sorry for that. However, I will be doing an equal amount of focus on both of them in Down to the Wire.**

 **All of this being said, enjoy the epilogue! You people are all amazing!**

 **~browneyedgirl29**

* * *

 _ **Epilogue**_

 ** _Two Months Later_**

"So, you're saying you're _not_ rooting for me?" Camille asked, incredulous.

"What? Just because I'm not sitting with Bones and Jim, does not mean that I will not be pulling for you just as hard as Pavel and Sulu, okay?" Karina explained, for the fiftieth time that day.

"Sure. Whatever you say, Kari. Make sure to tell Yoko I said hello, okay?" Camille said, turning on her heels.

Karina stared after her. "Yoko?" she asked herself. Who the heck was Yoko?

She made her way up to the bleachers that had been temporarily set up around the track and took a seat beside Juliet. She hadn't really known the older girl that well up until now, but since Juliet was pulling for Sulu and Pavel was basically running with him, Karina figured she'd hang with her that day.

"Hey, I was wondering when you'd get here," Juliet said, scooting over. Already the seats were pretty crowded. Karina glanced around and found Jim and Bones. Jim looked over at her and waved, but Bones' stare was fixed straight ahead, a scowl on his face. _Wish I knew what was going through his head right now._

"She's going to kill herself somehow. I just know it," Bones was muttering to Jim at that very moment.

Snorting, Jim slapped him on the back. "Bones, lighten up. She's _running_. What could possibly happen?"

"You do understand this is Camille we're talking about here?" Bones growled, the scowl deepened. "She could injure herself walking down the hallway, Jim. I knew this was a bad idea."

"Then why didn't you tell her?" Jim queried, already knowing the answer and grinning.

"She never listens, does she?"

Jim laughed. "No. That she does not. Meanwhile, just sit back, enjoy it, and try not to send her bad vibes, okay? From what Karina says, it sounds like there's some pretty fast runners here."

A few hundred yards away, Juliet pointed. "Found them."

Karina held her hand up to her eyes to shield them from the sun. Still, she could only barely make out the forms of Sulu and Pavel down at the track. One of them waved at her. She assumed it was Pavel, since Sulu didn't really know her that well.

"What do you think the odds are either of them wins this thing?" Juliet asked.

Karina shrugged. "I suppose it really isn't about winning…"

Juliet shot her a look, saying she didn't believe Karina meant that for a moment.

"…but it would still be pretty cool if either of them did," Karina conceded, her telltale grin saying that she wasn't exactly impervious to the outcome of this marathon. Her competitive side was coming out, and she was pulling for Pavel to win this thing by a landslide. Or at least a few feet.

"I'm thinking it comes down to the pair of them, the other one pulls ahead and wins by a nose," Juliet said. "Literally, a nose. Like, they'll have to look at the video of it later and pause it, and it'll be which one of their noses is farther along in the frame."

"Which we all know which one of them that will be," Karina muttered.

Juliet stopped mid-sentence, and turned to look at her. "Wait a minute. Are you saying Hikaru isn't that fast?"

"No… I'm just saying Pavel's faster," she said, smiling proudly.

Juliet took that in for a minute. "And how do you know that, if I may ask?"

"Because I've watched them train for this, Juliet. Pavel beats Sulu by a landslide every single time."

Karina eyed Juliet, who was taking this very personally for someone who kept insisting she and Sulu were "just friends." Karina grinned, then caught herself. She hated it when Jim and Camille did that to her, so she wouldn't do it to Juliet. And, last she heard, Sulu was happily married. Therefore, there was absolutely no reason for it. Karina sighed. Well, maybe she'd find someone else to tease about this sort of thing one day, just to see what made Camille enjoy it so much.

"Maybe he's got something up his sleeve none of us have seen coming," Juliet muttered, her set face clearly sending _you'd-better-prove-me-right_ thoughts Sulu's way.

"I'm sure he does," Karina conceded, her mouth twisted in a half-smile. This could get interesting. And looking over at Juliet, seeing her face mirroring the expression, she knew that the older girl would be pulling just as hard for Pavel to win if Sulu fell behind.

Down on the track, Camille lined up next to Sulu and Chekov at the starter's call. She looked over at them. It had taken some serious convincing on Sulu's part – and Karina's for that matter – but Chekov had finally agreed to participate. That was good, she thought. Now that he didn't have the cloud of the past hanging over him, actually letting people know he existed was a good idea. Jim and Bones still had a hard time remembering the kid's name, and, from what Karina said, so did Captain Pike.

She muttered to Sulu, "Hope you're ready to be left in the dust."

Staring straight ahead, he said out of the corner of his mouth, "We'll see about that, Osbourne. Tell me how you like last place."

Camille was about to shoot another teasing remark at Chekov, but saw that he was completely focused on the task ahead of him. He'd barely heard anything they'd said. Camille felt a tiny bit of trepidation. Just a tad bit. Karina had said the kid was pretty fast, but there was bound to be at least one faster person here. And often, it wasn't so much speed as it was stamina that came in handy. Camille hoped he was a good loser, if it came down to that.

Just before the horn sounded, Karina turned to Juliet. "Hey, Juliet…do you know who Yoko is?"

Juliet frowned. "In which context?"

"Well, Cam and I were talking about the fact that I was sitting with you instead of Jim and Bones. She accused me of not supporting her at all – totally kidding, of course. I told her that because Pavel and Sulu are running together, I was going to sit with you. She said to be sure to tell Yoko hi for her. What the heck does that mean?"

Her voice trailed off when Juliet let out a peal of laughter. She was practically rolling in the bleachers, holding her sides and trying to get a sentence out. Finally, she said, "I think Camille may be a bit jealous of our friend Mr. Chekov down there."

Karina's eyes widened. "Wait, why?"

"Yoko Ono. You've heard of the Beatles?"

"Yes… Aren't they classical musicians?"

"Yeah, you should look them up if you're into classical music – and I mean _ancient_ classical. They're brilliant. Anyway, Yoko was John Lennon, the lead singer's wife. She pretty much broke the band up from what I hear. Hence the phrase, 'Yoko in the band.'"

Karina frowned. "She meant…"

"You're John Lennon. Chekov's Yoko. And Camille, McCoy, and Jim are Paul, George and Ringo. Oh, my word. I'm watching a live replay of the Beatles!"

Karina was about to sputter something about how that _even_ applied in this situation, when the horn blasted, loud and clear, and everyone was off.

The two girls were on their feet instantly, screaming at the top of their lungs. Karina wasn't even sure _what_ she was shouting, she just knew it was something along the lines of words of encouragement. Juliet, meanwhile, was reminding her slightly of a crazy soccer mom. "Come on, Hikaru! Crush them! _Pulverize them!"_

"This isn't a gladiator match, Juliet," Karina said.

"Doesn't matter. It's just fun to yell. Try it."

Karina was all for fun, so she thought about it for a second, then stood up on the bench and yelled at decibels that would have burst an elephant's ear drums, _"Run them into the ground, Pavel!"_

Juliet started making a noise that sounded a bit like a dying donkey – Karina could only assume it was laughter, capitulated by a dry throat - then hopped up on the bench with her. "Great idea, this one. Come on, keep going!"

So, while the girls stood there encouraging violence in a peaceful, humanitarian organization, Bones was avidly watching Camille. She was holding her own, which was impressive. Speed was clearly her strong suit, though he had no doubt as to her stamina, either. He looked over at Jim, who was on his feet, clapping along calmly, shouting, "You got this, Cam! I believe in you!"

Sensing Bones watching him, he grinned. "Ah, who am I kidding? YOU CALL THAT RUNNING, OSBOURNE? PICK UP YOUR FEET!"

Camille, who was passing by at that moment, evidently heard him, because she sent him a not-so-ladylike hand gesture. That one got Bones laughing.

Jim leaned over and muttered, "You know, if she sees me shouting here, she may start getting ideas. I'd probably better sit down. We wouldn't want that, would we?"

Bones, in a mirror move of Juliet and Karina earlier, shot to his feet, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Come on, Camille! LET'S GO!"

It was down to the final lap, and the three front runners were Camille, Sulu, and one of the captains. This was one of the few events that pitted officers against cadets. Karina, feeling slightly dejected, but not quite giving up, grabbed Juliet's arm and started shaking her. Fortunately, Juliet grabbed her right back and returned the favor, and both girls continued their banshee-reminiscent screams.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the captain grabbed his leg and fell to the side. One of the doctors standing by ran out to him and held a hand up to signal to the crowd that he was okay. Jim grabbed Bones' shoulder and said, "See? The injury quota for the day has been filled! Cam's golden!"

"Oh, shut up!" Bones said, eyes still fixed on the red-clad figure making her way toward the finish line.

Karina, who'd about given up on Pavel getting anywhere close to winning this thing, had her eyes glued to Sulu and Camille, currently neck and neck, when Juliet tugged on her arm. "Karina, you may want to look at this!"

Someone was putting on a sudden burst of speed and leaving the general crowd behind him, gaining on Camille and Sulu fast. Karina drew in a sharp intake of breath when she recognized Pavel from the distance. Forgetting any ounce of dignity she had left, she started jumping up and down and screaming some more, watching the other two react.

Camille and Sulu had been consistent, stamina taking over, but Pavel was way too fast for either of them. Sulu shook his head and grinned, accepting defeat, but Camille, ever the competitor, attempted to put on another burst of speed. Sure of herself, however, she hadn't seen him coming up behind her, and her efforts were fruitless. There was already too much distance between the pair of them for a recovery. Pavel cleared the finish line effortlessly.

Karina sat there in stunned silence for a minute, then attempted to let out another holler of triumph. Her throat gave out on her. Juliet heard, laughed, and then filled the air with enough screams for the pair of them.

Jim, who'd heard Karina's squeak even from the distance, turned back to Bones and laughed. "And she claims they're just friends, huh?"

Bones, meanwhile, was panting. "No injuries," he said. "None whatsoever. I would never have dared to hope for such a thing."

Karina and Juliet, in the front row, vaulted the rail in front of the raised bleachers. Figuring she needed to smooth over the whole "Yoko in the band" thing, they went to Camille first. Camille was wide-eyed, looking as though she still found it rather hard to believe.

"How did – what – HOW DID HE - ?"

Karina shook her head and gave Camille a quick hug. "You did pretty well for yourself, don't believe any different."

Camille shrugged. "Oh, well. Not like I ran to win, anyway." She caught a glimpse of Jim and Bones, and said, "Okay, I guess I can share you today."

Before she left, Juliet called after her, "Cam?"

Camille whirled, and Juliet said, "Yoko? Really?"

Camille shrugged again. "It seemed fitting."

Bones and Jim, who'd flooded the track along with the rest of the cadets, approached Camille. "Second, not bad," Jim said, grinning.

Camille accepted the high five he offered then turned to Bones. "So, I hope I didn't give you too much of a heart attack, right?"

"Well, after the captain went down, I was pretty sure the odds were fairly good of you surviving this time. Although, you haven't exactly been one to keep to the odds, Cam." He eyed her, hoping that he hadn't offended her by referring to the events of a year ago.

Far from it, she put her arms around each of their waists said, "Come on. Let's head over to where they present the winners' circle. I may not get to be taller than everybody, but at least I'll be standing above Sulu."

"Debatable," Jim muttered, receiving a smack to the back of the head.

Sulu hadn't stopped running until he reached Chekov, and then leaped on his friend, almost knocking him off balance. Pulling away, he said, "I knew it! I knew that was how it would turn out! Should never have doubted!"

Juliet got there first, pulling Sulu far enough away that he would be safe from what she knew was coming. Karina, like the freight train she tended to be, also leaped at Chekov, and this time, for the first time in their long history of running into each other, they went down.

Chekov, the wind knocked out of him, lay on the ground for a while, only vaguely realizing Karina wasn't getting off of him. However, this only lasted for a few seconds, as she quickly shrieked, "Gross!" and squirmed away from him.

Sitting up and staring at her, he had no clue whether to be offended or not. Realizing what she'd said, she quickly amended, "You're super sweaty right now. I'll hug you later."

Sulu and Juliet were both doubled over in laughter, and Karina shook her head. Chekov rose to his feet and held his hand out to her, helping her up. "We should probably head over to the winners' circle," she said. "I personally want to savor this."

"If I didn't know any better," Sulu muttered to Juliet as they walked a few paces behind the two kids, "I'd say she was more excited about this than he is."

Juliet, grinning, said, "One hundred credits on two years."

"You're on."

Karina, meanwhile, turned to Pavel. "So…" she said. "How's it feel, officially being the youngest person to ever win this thing?" He whirled and stared at her. "Looked it up. The youngest person before you was twenty-two. Your name'll go on a plaque and everything."

Grinning, he looked up at the sky. And for the first time in his life, he was able to say, "It feels great."


	27. Preview of Down to the Wire

**Okay, so the preview doesn't tell you a whole lot you don't already know. I'm going to be honest, because the next one follows the first movie's plot line, there won't be a whole lot of plot twists or anything. That being said, I hope you enjoy this preview of Down to the Wire, and I will see you all again in January!**

 **Or, you know, next week for a bunch of one shots. Either way, I'll be back.**

* * *

There was so much debris. In front of them, around them, nothing but debris. Seven ruined starships, completely destroyed, hundreds of lives brought to a sudden end. Everyone collectively jumped as though knocked off balance. Jim jerked his arm out of Camille's grip, but even if he hadn't, she switched to holding on to Bones with both hands, subconsciously feeling that if she were attached to two points she'd be torn in two.

"Emergency evasive!" Pike shouted as a piece of debris came floating toward them.

"Yes, sir!" Sulu replied, already on it.

Shouts came from all various different sides of the bridge. Something rocked the ship, actually knocking everyone off balance. Pike was in the best position for this sort of attack, as his chair provided the perfect braces in its arm rests, and he remained relatively unfazed. Chekov and Sulu both braced themselves on the helm, still thrown sideways but not coming out of their seats. Karina, meanwhile, whose reflexes had taken a temporary break, nearly came out of her chair, only grabbing onto the arm rests at the last minute before she landed in Spock's lap. That did not need to be added to their list of awkward encounters. Pavel, she could run into, possibly be thrown into the lap of during an attack on the ship. Not Spock. And the fact that she cared about that in this particular instant made her almost laugh.

Only Bones and Jim remained perfectly upright somehow. Camille was thrown back away from Bones, who grabbed her and pulled her back toward him, his arm coming around her in a protective gesture.

Her hands plastered on his chest, she looked up at him, slightly shocked. Bones, seeming to realize what he'd done on instinct, also looked down at her, a look of terror on his face, but seeing that she clearly didn't care, and realizing that everyone else was too focused on their imminent doom to pay attention, he decided removing himself from her didn't have to be an option.

The ship shook as small portions of debris hit it on all sides. None of them were as big as that first one, but everyone still struggled to stay upright. Jim had braced himself on an empty console in front of him, and Bones, still holding Camille, grabbed onto another for support.

"Damage report!" Pike demanded.

"Deflector shields are holding."

"All stations. Engineer Olson, report!" Pike barked into the conn, but there was silence from the other end.

Sulu turned the ship upside down, on its side, anything to avoid being permanently damaged. Camille, meanwhile, was scanning the horizon, only able to think of one thing, just one problem, that no one else seemed to be focused on, _Where the hell are the Romulans?_

Her thoughts were interrupted, however, by the sight of a huge piece of ship, from the _USS Truman_ , it looked like, looming in front of them, about to spell out their death by collision.

"Full reverse! Come about starboard 90 degrees. Drop us down underneath them, Sulu," Pike commanded.

Chekov laid that in while Sulu pressed the throttle forward, performing his job with the most precision possible under the dire circumstances. A bit of the _Truman_ still managed to hit along the nacelles, likely scraping off some of that brand, spanking new paneling Juliet had fangirled to Camille about not two days ago. She wasn't going to be too happy about that – if she lived to even consider being upset.

Camille's eyes traveled to Spock, who had whirled in his seat, only his human eyes revealing his terror. She hadn't even noticed him retake his post, but she knew that he was realizing his worst fears were confirmed: James Kirk was right. Vulcan, his home planet, his parents' current place of residence, was under attack.

Jim, meanwhile, scanned the viewer for his worst enemies, for once in his life wishing he hadn't been right. Pike stared in horror at the carnage before him, taking it in for the first time and completely forgetting about trying to evade it.

Suddenly Spock delivered the words all of them were dreading, "Captain, they're locking torpedoes."


End file.
